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THE  1  IBRARY 


:HE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL IFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


THE  HAPPY  WOMAN 


THE  HAPPY  WOMAN 


BY 

MAURICE  WEYL 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  CHOICE" 


NEW  YORK 

MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 
MCMXX 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BT  MITCHELL  KENNERLKT 


1523772 


TO  MY  WIFE 


THE  HAPPY  WOMAN 

CHAPTER  I 

A  Sard  wick  was  shown  into  Mr.  Pemberton's  office, 
he  was  much  impressed  by  the  quality  of  exact 
appropriateness  which  marked  its  every  feature. 
The  room  was  almost  bare  of  ornament.  Not  even  a 
calendar  was  to  be  seen.  The  walls  were  of  some  dark 
fabric  spaced  by  mahogany  mouldings,  the  floor  was 
covered  by  a  self-effacing  carpet,  there  were  a  few 
chairs.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  large  mahogany 
desk  covered  by  a  piece  of  plate  glass.  On  this  desk  were 
a  telephone,  an  ink  well  and  pen  holder,  and  a  blotting 
pad.  There  were  no  loose  papers  of  any  kind. 

At  the  desk  was  seated  a  man  of  about  thirty-five 
years,  who  fitted  exactly  into  his  surroundings.  Effi 
ciency  spoke  in  his  every  feature.  His  hair  was  dark,  his 
face  square,  his  eyes  keen,  under  somewhat  heavy  brows, 
his  nose  large  but  well  formed,  the  mouth  of  fair  size 
with  rather  thin  lips,  the  chin  firm.  As  he  was  seated, 
the  impression  that  his  height  was  considerably  over  the 
average  was  unavoidable.  Actually  it  was  about  the 
average,  and  the  impression  he  gave  of  tallness  when 
seated  was  due  to  the  fact  that  his  legs  were  rather 
shorter  than  the  size  of  his  body  suggested.  His  suit  was 
dark  in  color,  elegant  and  fashionable  without  reaching 
the  extreme.  The  rest  of  his  attire  was  also  impeccable. 

5 


6  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Hardwick  took  all  of  this  in  as  a  mass.  The  details 
were  present  but  he  did  not  see  them  as  such.  He  felt 
the  directness,  the  straightforward  efficiency  of  the 
whole  scheme,  just  as  he  was  sensible  of  the  temperature 
without  noting  that  it  was  cool  because  of  the  half- 
opened  window.  He  stood,  hat  in  hand,  awaiting  some 
greeting. 

It  came  promptly.  "Good  morning,  Mr.  Hardwick. 
Take  a  seat."  The  tone  was  firm,  the  utterance  quick 
and  clear. 

Hardwick  seated  himself  in  the  chair  nearest  Pem- 
berton's  desk  and  laid  his  hat  on  the  floor. 

Pemberton  looked  at  him  carefully.  What  he  saw  was 
a  man  of  about  forty-five,  although  the  casual  observer 
would  have  said  that  he  was  not  quite  forty.  He  was 
fair,  with  light  brown  hair  in  which  there  was  no  sign  of 
gray.  Nor  was  there  even  the  beginning  of  baldness. 
His  face  was  rather  long,  the  forehead  high.  His  eyes 
were  gray,  his  nose  aquiline  and  thin,  a  moustache 
covered  what  would  have  otherwise  shown  as  a  rather 
weak  mouth,  small  in  proportion  to  the  rest  of  his  face. 
His  chin  was  not  remarkable  in  any  way.  Perhaps  it 
receded  slightly. 

He  was  well  dressed  without  particular  distinction. 
Altogether,  his  appearance  betokened  gentility.  No  one 
would  ever  have  taken  him  for  one  of  the  so-called  com 
mon  people. 

Pemberton  noted  some  of  these  details,  but  what  he 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  7 

principally  saw  was  that  the  man  before  him  was  one 
upon  whom  he  felt  that  he  could  exert  his  own  will  with 
little  effort.  Pemberton  made  no  attempt  at  analysis;  he 
would  have  been  at  a  loss  to  determine  the  elements 
which  combined  to  produce  his  assumption,  but,  none 
the  less,  he  was  confident  of  its  accuracy. 

"I  received  your  letter — "  Hardwick  began,  ques- 
tioningly. 

"Yes,"  said  Pemberton,  "I  wrote  to  you  because  Mr. 
Hughes,  the  president  of  the  company,  asked  particu 
larly  that  I  should  do  so.  I  suppose  you  know  that 
McNair,  our  advertising  manager,  has  left  us  to  go  into 
the  army.  We  have  to  fill  his  place  with  a  new  man 
because  McNair's  assistant,  who,  under  ordinary  cir 
cumstances,  would  have  succeeded  him,  is  also  going 
into  the  army.  Do  you  believe  you  are  qualified  to  fill 
the  position?"  Pemberton  put  this  question  almost 
brusquely,  looking  directly  into  Hardwick's  eyes. 

"I've  had  a  great  deal  of  experience,"  answered  the 
latter.  "  I  was  with  the  American  Harness  Company  for 
three  years;  that  was  my  last  job.  Before  that,  I  was  with 
the  Pendleton  agency.  And  before  that  I  was  with  the 
Albright  Printing  Company  as  a  solicitor  for  two  years. 
And  before  that — well,  I've  had  what  you  might  call  an 
all  'round  experience.  I  know  the  game  inside  and  out. 
Of  course,  I  don't  know  the  details  of  your  particular 
business,  but  it  wouldn't  take  me  very  long  to  get  my 
bearings."  Hardwick  spoke  easily  and  well,  without 
overconfidence,  modestly. 


8  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

"Why  did  you  leave  the  American  Harness  people?" 
asked  Pemberton. 

"They  told  me  they  were  going  to  cut  down  their 
appropriation  to  a  point  where  they  would  have  to 
reduce  the  pay  of  the  advertising  manager  about  one- 
half.  I  couldn't  stand  that,  so  I  quit." 

"Brigham's  got  the  job  now,  hasn't  he?" 

"Yes,  I  heard  so  the  other  day." 

"Well,  he's  no  cheap  man." 

"That's  what  I  can't  understand.  I  always  thought 
that  he  was  making  more  money  than  I  was."  Hardwick 
was  becoming  somewhat  uncomfortable.  Pemberton 
had  hit  upon  a  tender  spot. 

"Well,"  said  Pemberton,  "that's  neither  here  nor 
there.  It's  not  a  question  of  what's  gone  before,  but 
what  we're  going  to  do  now.  What  salary  do  you  ask?" 

Hardwick  hesitated  for  a  moment  before  replying. 
"Mr.  Hughes  told  me,"  he  began. 

Pemberton  interrupted.  "I  know.  Mr.  Hughes  told 
you  that  we  paid  McNair  five  thousand  dollars.  But  we 
couldn't  pay  you  anything  like  that.  Certainly  not  to 
begin  with.  How  much  did  you  get  at  the  Harness  Com 
pany?" 

"Four  thousand,"  answered  Hardwick  promptly, 
"but  you  wouldn't  compare  that  job  to  this,  would  you ?" 

"No;  but  you  must  remember  you  didn't  keep  that 
job.  What  would  you  say  to  thirty-five  hundred  to 
begin  with?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  9 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Hardwick  doubtfully,  "I'd 
have  to  cut  down  my  living  expenses  considerably.  And 
just  now,  with  war  prices,  that's  pretty  difficult." 

"But,  my  dear  man,  that  isn't  the  question  at  all. 
Your  living  expenses  must  be  made  to  fit  your  income. 
You  can  only  count  on  getting  what  you're  worth,  not 
what  you  think  you  need.  Is  it  a  go?" 

"Couldn't  you  make  it  four  thousand?"  Hardwick 
inquired  in  a  tone  which  to  Pemberton  indicated  con 
clusively  that  he  would  accept  the  smaller  salary.  "I'm 
sure  Mr.  Hughes — " 

"Listen  to  me,"  interrupted  Pemberton.  "Let's  get 
down  to  brass  tacks.  There  are  only  two  reasons  for  my 
considering  your  application.  The  first  is  that  Mr. 
Hughes  recommended  you,  but  that  was  only  a  recom 
mendation  and  not  an  order  to  employ  you.  If  he  had 
ordered  me  to  put  you  on  and  pay  you  ten  thousand,  I'd 
have  had  no  choice.  Instead  of  that,  he  has  simply  sug 
gested  you  for  the  job.  I  believe  he's  some  relative  of 
Mrs.  Hardwick,  isn't  he?" 

"He's  her  uncle." 

"Yes.  Well,  he  suggested  that  I  see  you  and  take  you 
on  if  you  suited  me.  To  be  perfectly  frank,  you  don't 
suit  me  particularly  well,  and,  if  I  had  my  choice,  I 
really  believe  you  wouldn't  get  the  job.  But  the  war  has 
made  men  scarce  everywhere  and  that's  what  gives  you 
your  opportunity.  How  about  it?" 

"I'd  like  a  day  or  two  to  think  it  over,"  answered 


10  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

Hardwick  slowly.  An  indistinct  idea  that  he  might  be 
able  to  get  Mr.  Hughes  to  improve  the  offer  came  into 
his  mind.  Pemberton  guessed  it  and  said: 

"Well,  if  you  want  a  couple  of  days  to  think  it  over, 
just  consider  that  I've  not  made  you  any  offer.  That 
leaves  both  of  us  free." 

"Yes,"  said  Hardwick,  slowly.  He  was  thinking  with 
great  intenseness.  He  did  not  want  this  at  all.  He  knew 
that  he  must  not  take  any  chance  of  losing  this  oppor 
tunity.  He  felt  a  dull  anger  against  Pemberton  grow 
within  him.  How  hard  he  was.  He  would  be  a  terrible 
task  master.  And  yet,  it  was  his  one  chance. 

As  he  turned  these  ideas  over  in  his  mind,  Pemberton 
watched  him  coolly,  sure  of  the  final  decision.  And  after 
a  little  while  it  came. 

"Coming  to  think  of  it,"  said  Hardwick,  very  briskly, 
"I  may  as  well  accept  right  now.  After  all,  it's  only  a 
start.  If  I  make  good,  I  guess  there  won't  be  any  diffi 
culty  cashing  in." 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Pemberton.  "But  let's 
have  one  thing  understood  right  at  the  beginning.  If  you 
take  this  job,  you're  going  to  be  under  my  orders,  and 
I'm  responsible  for  the  work  of  your  department.  I  want 
it  understood  that  there  is  to  be  no  use  made  of  your 
wife's  relationship  to  Mr.  Hughes.  You're  not  to  try  to 
work  any  pull.  If  you  make  good,  your  pay  will  be 
raised,  and  if  you  don't — well,  I  guess  you  understand." 
He  smiled,  but  there  was  no  mirth  in  it. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  11 

Hardwick  was  nonplused.  This  was  exactly  what  he 
had  intended  to  do;  accept  the  position  at  the  figure 
offered  and  then  appeal  to  his  wife's  uncle  for  an  increase. 
However,  he  was  in  for  it  now  and  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  acquiesce. 

"Sure,"  said  he,  "it's  got  to  be  on  that  basis." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Pemberton.  "When  will  you 
begin  work?" 

"Any  time,"  said  Hardwick.  "How  about  tomorrow 
morning?" 

"First  rate.  See  me  here  at  nine-thirty."  He  was  dis 
tinctly  pleased  with  Hardwick's  promptness,  he  had 
rather  looked  for  some  delay.  He  showed  his  pleasure 
plainly,  and  Hardwick  knew  that  his  first  step  had  been 
in  the  right  direction.  He  was  still  feeling  sore,  but,  now 
that  matters  had  been  settled,  much  of  the  smart  was 
gone.  All  of  it  left  with  Pemberton's  next  words: 

"It's  about  lunch  time.  Will  you  join  me?  We  can 
talk  over  our  plans." 

"I'll  be  glad  to,"  answered  Hardwick  with  alacrity. 
Pemberton  did  not  seem  such  a  bad  fellow  after  all. 


CHAPTER  II 

HARDWICK  followed  Pemberton  into  a  res 
taurant  of  the  latter's  choosing,  a  place  of 
the  first-class  frequented  by  business  men. 
When  they  were  seated  in  a  room  in  which  there  was 
a  minimum  of  bustle  and.  a  maximum  of  service, 
Pemberton  asked: 

"Shall  I  order  for  you?"  and  followed  it  immediately 
with: 

"I  don't  suppose  you  eat  a  heavy  lunch." 

He  turned  to  the  waiter  and  gave  his  order  without 
allowing  Hardwick  time  to  answer.  Hardwick  was  much 
impressed.  Never  before  had  he  met  so  masterful  a  man. 
It  seemed  that  Pemberton  took  himself  and  his  wishes 
for  granted  with  everyone.  He  simply  drove  on  in  the 
way  he  wished  to  go.  If  anyone  cared  to  risk  a  collision, 
it  would  be  just  so  much  the  worse  for  him;  Hardwick 
knew  in  his  own  soul  that  he  would  never  be  able  suc 
cessfully  to  oppose  him.  He  did  not  admit  it,  even  to 
himself;  he  simply  felt  the  power  of  the  other's  person 
ality,  the  thought  of  opposition  would  never  occur  to 
him.  In  fact,  he  did  not  consider  Pemberton,  for  the 
moment,  subjectively.  He  looked  at  him  and  his  rela 
tions  with  others  as  a  mere  bystander,  one  who  has  but 
a  detached  interest  in  the  proceedings. 

When  the  waiter  had  gone,  Pemberton  turned  to 

12 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  13 

Hardwick  and  told  him  his  views  with  regard  to  the 
conduct  of  the  advertising  department  of  the  Prescott 
Manufacturing  Company,  into  whose  employ  Hardwick 
had  now  come..  The  company  was  engaged  in  the  produc 
tion  of  a  number  of  hardware  specialties.  Its  business 
was  extremely  large,  covering  the  whole  country,  both 
by  advertising  and  direct  solicitation. 

"You  see,"  said  Pemberton,  "we  advertise  direct  to 
the  consumer  and  so  have  a  hold  on  the  ultimate  cus 
tomer.  The  dealer  has  to  carry  our  goods;  that  is,  he 
thinks  he  has  to  carry  them,  which  is  the  same  thing  in 
the  long  run.  But  we  want  more  than  just  having  him 
carry  them.  We  want  him  to  push  them.  We  want  his 
good  will,  we  want  his  interest.  And  so,  we  keep  adver 
tising  to  him  constantly.  Really,  this  work  is  much 
harder  than  the  national  stuff.  That's  just  a  case  of 
getting  good  copy  and  a  first-rate  layout.  At  any  rate 
the  agency  attends  to  getting  them  up  and  all  we  have 
to  do  is  to  pass  on  them.  But  to  keep  after  the  dealer 
without  repeating  ourselves  too  much,  to  keep  him 
interested,  that's  the  real  job.  If  you  can  show  yourself 
up  to  snuff  in  this  particular,  you're  the  man  we've  been 
looking  for.  And  you  won't  have  to  stop  at  McNair's 
salary  either." 

The  waiter  arrived  with  their  lunch  and  they  were 
silent  while  it  was  being  served.  When  the  waiter 
departed  they  began  their  light  meal  uninterrupted  by 
conversation.  Hardwick  was  again  much  impressed  by 


14  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

his  companion.  He  felt  his  directness,  his  incisiveness 
more  keenly  than  ever.  No  longer  did  he  resent  it.  On 
the  contrary,  he  felt  it  as  a  distinct  stimulus  to  himself. 
He  thought  that,  under  this  man,  the  very  best  that 
was  in  him  would  come  to  the  fore.  He  was  quite  serene 
now  and  so  well  satisfied  with  himself  and  his  position 
in  the  world  that  he  entirely  forgot  the  awkward  expla 
nation  he  would  have  to  make  to  his  wife  on  his  return 
home,  a  matter  which  had  been  troubling  him  but  a  few 
minutes  before. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  Pemberton.  "How  did  you 
ever  get  into  the  advertising  game?"  he  asked,  looking 
directly  at  Hardwick. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  just  drifted  into  it,"  answered  Hard- 
wick.  He  laid  down  his  fork  and  thought  for  a  few 
seconds.  "Now  that  you  ask  me,"  he  went  on,  "it's 
really  quite  a  long  story.  I  did  drift  into  it,  but,  after  all, 
don't  you  think  most  of  our  progress  through  the  world 
is  more  in  the  nature  of  drifting  than  an  intelligent  con 
scious  effort  in  a  predetermined  direction?"  He  spoke 
slowly,  choosing  his  words  with  great  care. 

"I  guess  that's  pretty  good  psychology.  But,  how 
ever  it  may  have  come  about,  tell  me  how  you  got  into 
the  advertising  game." 

"You  know  I'm  a  college  man,"  said  Hardwick.  "My 
family  were  farmers  all  the  way  back.  My  father  wanted 
his  son  to  go  to  college,  and,  consequently,  I  went. 
Neither  he  nor  I  had  any  ulterior  object.  I  was  simply 


15 

to  have  an  education  which  none  of  the  Hardwicks  had 
ever  had.  After  I  got  my  degree,  I  was  supposed  to  come 
back  to  the  farm  provided  I  had  no  other  ambition. 

"But  when  Henry  Wallace  Hardwick  saw  his  name 
in  Latin  on  a  parchment,  the  farm  did  not  seem  to  offer 
a  suitable  career.  None  of  the  learned  professions 
attracted  me,  I  had  no  taste  for  any  more  plugging  at 
books,  so  I  decided  for  journalism.  It  wasn't  hard  to  get 
on  one  of  the  local  papers  in  this  town,  simply  because 
young  Allison  was  a  classmate  of  mine  and  his  father's 
word  went  a  long  way  in  the  newspaper  offices. 

"I  wasn't  altogether  a  failure  as  a  reporter.  I  liked 
the  work.  The  irregular  hours  rather  appealed  to  me.  I 
seemed,  too,  to  have  a  pretty  good  nose  for  news.  The 
only  trouble  was  the  poor  pay.  But  even  that  didn't 
bother  me  for  several  years,  in  fact,  until  I  fell  in  love 
and  wanted  to  get  married.  Say,"  he  interrupted  him 
self,  "you  don't  want  the  story  of  my  life,  do  you?" 

"Go  on,"  said  Pemberton,  "it's  very  interesting." 

Hardwick  ate  a  few  mouthfuls  and  then  resumed. 

"Well,  when  I  got  to  that  point,  I  knew  that  I'd 
have  to  make  a  change  if  I  ever  wanted  to  earn  real 
money.  Have  you  any  idea  of  what  the  average  editor 
makes?  I  don't  mean  headliners  like  Brisbane,  but  the 
average." 

"I  have  some  idea,"  answered  Pemberton,  "go  on." 

Hardwick  was  becoming  vaguely  conscious  of  a  feel 
ing  of  friendliness  towards  his  listener.  He  did  not  con- 


16  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

nect  it,  at  the  moment,  with  his  evident  Interest  in  his 
story,  but  that  was  the  fact. 

"I  got  myself  a  job  in  the  business  department, 
soliciting  ads.  I  did  pretty  well,  and  before  long  I  found 
I  was  making  double  what  I  had  been  getting  as  a 
reporter.  My  girl  and  I  had  agreed  that  we  wouldn't  get 
married  until  I  was  making  fifty  dollars  a  week,  but  we 
couldn't  wait,  and  when  I  was  up  to  thirty-five  we 
figured  that  would  be  enough  for  the  simple  life  we  con 
templated.  And  it  was,  too,  back  in  '99;  everything  was 
much  cheaper  and  I  guess  life  was  on  a  much  simpler 
scale.  I  remember  when  I  was  a  boy — but,  I  guess  I'll 
cut  that  out,  this  story's  too  long  already. 

"Well,  we  got  married  and  set  up  in  a  little  house  in 
the  suburbs  and  found  we  had  plenty.  Really,  it's  the 
only  time  in  my  married  life  that  I've  been  ahead  of 
the  game.  Money  in  the  bank  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Not  much,  but  plenty. 

"And  then  my  little  girl  came,  and  everything 
changed.  I  needed  more  money.  My  job  as  advertising 
solicitor  was  getting  a  little  bigger  every  day,  but  the 
growth  was  slow  and  it  seemed  as  though  it  would  take 
years  before  I'd  be  able  to  make  any  real  money.  A  good 
deal  of  my  business  came  to  me  because  I  was  pretty 
clever  at  getting  up  attractive  layouts  and  that  brought 
me  several  offers  of  jobs  as  copy  man  from  customers. 
I  fought  shy  of  all  of  them  because  they  seemed  too 
small  and  I  was  looking  for  a  bigger  opportunity.  I 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  17 

thought  I  saw  it  in  the  printing  business.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  the  printer  could  get  a  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  work  while  I  was  selling  a  hundred  dollars'  worth  of 
space.  I  mean  that  a  good  scheme  for  an  ad  was  only 
good  for  a  moderate  sized  order,  while  one  for  an  adver 
tising  booklet  or  a  catalogue  could  run  into  a  big  lot  of 
money.  I  met  Johnny  Albright  one  day  and  put  the 
matter  before  him.  He  was  interested  and  offered  me  a 
job,  guaranteeing  me  as  much  salary  as  I  was  making 
and  a  commission  besides.  I  talked  it  over  with  Mrs. 
Hardwick  and  although  she  wasn't  in  favor  of  making 
the  change,  she  didn't  have  any  good  reason  against 
doing  it,  just  a  kind  of  hunch  that  it  wouldn't  work  out. 
I  finally  accepted  Albright's  offer. 

"I  did  pretty  well  at  the  job.  I  always  made  a  little 
more  than  my  guarantee,  but  not  enough  to  make  it 
worth  while.  The  printing  business  is  an  awfully  hard 
game.  It's  like  merchant  tailoring;  every  customer  wants 
personal  attention  and  one  man  can  only  do  about  so 
much.  Of  course,  there  are  some  kinds  of  printing  that 
run  into  pretty  big  money,  but  not  the  advertising  kind. 
Either  the  agency  gets  all  the  profit  or  the  customer  is 
some  piker  who  isn't  big  enough  to  have  an  agency 
handle  his  business,  not  to  mention  having  a  real  adver 
tising  department  of  his  own.  But  you  know  all  about 
that." 

"Yes,"  said  Pemberton.  "What  made  you  quit 
Albright?" 


18  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  all  the  real  profit  in 
the  advertising  business  went  to  the  agency.  I  had  some 
fair  sized  customers  who  were  just  at  the  point  where 
they  could  use  an  agency.  I  had  done  some  business 
with  Pendleton  and,  one  day,  I  asked  him  how  he'd  like 
to  take  me  on.  When  he  found  out  I  had  some  real  live 
prospects,  it  was  easy.  I  was  with  him  two  years.  I  had 
fully  expected  to  get  an  interest  in  his  business;  in  fact, 
he  let  me  believe  that  when  we  made  our  original  deal, 
but  when  I  put  it  up  to  him  at  the  end  of  the  two  years, 
by  which  time  my  customers  had  become  his,  he  denied 
that  we  had  ever  considered  that  aspect  when  we  had 
come  together.  I  was  so  mad  that  I  threw  up  my  job 
then  and  there. 

"I  got  the  position  of  Advertising  Manager  with  the 
Harness  Company  shortly  after  that,  and  you  know  the 
rest.  It's  not  a  very  exciting  history,  is  it?"  he  asked. 

Pemberton  did  not  answer  immediately.  He  looked  at 
his  now  empty  plate,  apparently  deep  in  thought.  Hard- 
wick  looked  at  him  curiously.  He  would  have  liked  to 
learn  something  of  his  history  from  his  own  lips.  All  he 
knew  of  him  was  that  he  had  come  to  the  Prescott  Com 
pany  from  some  Western  town  a  few  years  before  as 
assistant  to  the  sales-manager,  and  that  he  was  now  the 
general  manager  of  the  business.  He  was  considered  by 
everyone  to  have  quite  extraordinary  ability.  His  suc 
cess  had  been  simply  meteoric.  Apparently  he  had  no 
close  friends.  He  was  unmarried  and  lived  at  the  Mer- 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  19 

chants  Club,  where  he  generally  remained  in  his  own 
room.  He  was  supposed  to  spend  all  of  his  time  away 
from  the  office  at  work,  for,  to  all  appearances,  he  never 
attended  to  any  matters  of  detail  while  at  the  office.  It 
was  understood  that  there  was  never  a  paper  on  his 
desk.  He  seemed  always  to  be  up  to  his  work,  never 
behind. 

"Do  you  care  for  a  sweet?"  asked  Pemberton  finally, 
ignoring  Hardwick's  question. 

"No,"  answered  the  latter,  "I'll  just  have  a  small 
coffee  and  a  cigar,  not  too  heavy." 

Pemberton  called  the  waiter  and  gave  him  the  order. 
Then  he  turned  to  Hardwick  and  asked: 

"Have  you  but  the  one  child?" 

"No,  there  are  two:  Alice  is  seventeen  and  Marian  is 
fifteen.  They're  a  great  pair  of  girls."  He  beamed  with 
pride.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  intensity  of  his  love 
for  his  children.  Pemberton  noted  it  and  was  conscious 
of  a  slight  feeling  of  envy.  It  did  not  seem  reasonable  to 
him  that  anyone  should  find  so  much  satisfaction  in 
what  was,  after  all,  a  purely  elementary  emotion. 

Hardwick  was  wondering  what  sort  of  question  he 
might  venture  to  put  to  Pemberton  which  would  move 
him  to  tell  something  of  himself.  But  all  that  occurred 
to  him  were  rejected  as  soon  as  they  presented  them 
selves.  Friendly  as  Pemberton  had  been,  as  had  been 
shown  by  his  lively  interest  in  Hardwick's  story,  there 
was  about  him  a  reserve  which  appeared  to  be  quite 


20  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

impenetrable,  certainly  to  his  present  companion,  who, 
somewhat  embarrassed  by  the  silence  with  which  his 
last  remark  had  been  met,  went  on  to  talk  further  of  his 
family. 

"I'd  like  you  to  meet  Mrs.  Hard  wick  and  the  girls. 
I  believe  you'd  enjoy  the  kiddies;  they're  young  and, 
if  you'll  pardon  a  doting  parent,  they're  both  clever  and 
unspoiled.  Will  you  come  out  to  dinner  some  evening?" 

"Thanks,"  answered  Pemberton.  "I  don't  go  out  at 
all.  I'd  like  to  come — perhaps  I  will  later.  Thanks  very 
much." 

There  was  just  the  least  bit  of  hesitation  in  his  man 
ner.  Slight  as  it  was,  almost  imperceptible,  in  fact,  it  was 
the  first  sign  of  any  such  thing  that  Pemberton  had 
shown  to  Hardwick. 


CHAPTER  III 

A  five-thirty  on  that  afternoon,  late  in  May,  1917, 
Hardwick  let  himself  into  his  house.  It  was  a 
small,  suburban  dwelling,  one  of  a  row  in  which 
two  commonplace  styles  of  architecture  alternated. 

The  door  gave  directly  into  a  fair-sized  hall,  the  fur 
nishing  of  which  is  difficult  to  picture  in  words.  To  begin 
with,  the  walls  were  covered  with  a  pale  gray  Chambray 
paper,  which  would  have  been  entirely  suitable  in  a 
bedroom,  but  which  here  was  woefully  out  of  place. 
The  woodwork  of  chestnut  had  been  stained  to  imitate 
yellow  oak.  The  furniture  was  varied  in  the  extreme. 
A  couch  of  the  Virginia  Colonial  type,  covered  with 
flowered  tapestry,  was  the  main  feature,  although  strong 
competition  was  offered  by  the  window  seats,  with 
cushions  covered  with  bright  red  velvet.  A  mahogany 
Morris  chair  with  tapestry  cushions,  two  small  chairs  of 
the  Louis  XIV  period  in  walnut,  covered  in  French  blue 
velvet,  and  a  round  oak  centre  table  completed  the  list 
of  the  larger  features.  The  general  confusion  was  height 
ened  by  window  draperies  of  a  flowered  tapestry  whose 
strident  colorings  offered  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  equally 
strident  but  quite  different  tapestry  used  for  the  furni 
ture  covering.  The  floor  was  covered  by  what  was  prob 
ably  the  only  Persian  rug  that  ever  faded. 

It  was  an  oppressive  room.  Pictures  of  all  kinds  were 

21 


22  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

everywhere  crowded  on  the  walls.  No  matter  where  one 
looked,  some  perfervid  decoration  seized  the  eye.  Even 
the  handle  of  the  damper  in  the  open  fireplace  was  used 
to  support  a  bunch  of  dried  hydrangeas. 

The  centre  table,  literally  piled  with  magazines  and 
books,  served  as  a  hatrack  as  well.  A  sweater,  some  hair- 
ribbons,  a  girl's  hat,  some  gloves  were  thrown  on  it  in 
careless  confusion.  At  one  edge  of  the  table  there  was  a 
silver  card  tray,  bearing  quite  a  number  of  visiting  cards, 
the  top  one  being  that  of  a  distinguished  society  woman, 
Mrs.  L.  Percival  Sedley.  It  had  evidently  held  the  post 
of  honor  at  the  top  of  the  pile  for  quite  a  long  period,  for 
it  was  much  soiled  as  well  as  distinctly  dusty. 

The  sound  of  the  closing  door  was  followed  imme 
diately  by  the  noise  of  steps  on  the  oak  stairs.  Marian, 
a  pretty  young  girl  of  fifteen,  ran  down  to  greet  her 
father.  Disregarding  the  fact  that  he  was  halfway  out 
of  his  light  overcoat,  she  threw  her  arms  about  him  and 
kissed  him  affectionately. 

"How  are  you,  pops?"  she  cried. 

"Fine,  Mamie,"  he  answered.   "Is  mother  home?" 

"Yes,  and  so's  Allie.  They'll  be  down  in  a  minute, 
I  guess.  Did  you  get  the  job?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "I  got  it  all  right." 

"  That's  fine,  I'm  so  glad." 

By  this  time,  Hardwick  had  completely  taken  off  his 
coat,  which  he  threw  on  the  couch  with  his  hat  and 
gloves  upon  it,  and  was  about  to  mount  the  stairs  when 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  23 

his  wife  and  elder  daughter  appeared  at  the  upper  land 
ing. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  a  large  woman,  not  corpulent, 
but  heavy,  solid.  Her  hair  was  so  arranged  that  it 
appeared  to  be  black,  although  a  considerable  portion 
of  it  was  gray.  Her  features  were  regular  but  tended 
towards  magnitude.  She  would  have  been  a  handsome 
woman  but  for  her  complete  lack  of  trimness.  She  wore 
a  dress  of  dark  blue  serge  which  was  crushed  and  wrin 
kled,  and  looked  as  though  it  was  a  total  stranger  to  the 
pressing  iron.  Its  general  slovenliness  was  heightened  by 
a  number  of  spots,  varying  both  in  size  and  the  intensity 
of  discoloration. 

"How  are  you,  Henry,  my  dear?"  she  said,  as  she 
came  down  the  stair.  Her  voice  was  not  unpleasant,  but 
her  manner  was  unctuous.  It  seemed  to  be  an  affecta 
tion.  Indeed,  it  had  been  once,  but  had  now  become 
habitual. 

"All  right,  Florrie,"  he  answered.  "How  are  you?  and 
you,  Allie?"  turning  to  his  elder  daughter,  who  ap 
proached  him  with  her  mother. 

Both  of  the  women  kissed  him,  after  which  they  all 
sat  down,  Hardwick  in  the  Morris  chair,  with  Marian 
sitting  on  one  of  its  arms,  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Pops  got  the  job,"  cried  Marian. 

"I  made  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick.  "I 
knew  that  Uncle  James'  wishes  would  have  to  be 
respected." 


24  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Uncle  James"  wishes  did  the  trick  in  a  way,"  said 
her  husband,  "but  they  didn't  go  as  far  as  they  might 
have."  He  paused,  he  was  not  comfortable  at  the  pros 
pect  of  admitting  that  he  had  accepted  the  position  at 
thirty-five  hundred  dollars. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardwick  with 
great  earnestness. 

"Well — just  this:  You  know  I  went  to  see  the  general 
manager,  Mr.  Pemberton,  and  when  I  spoke  to  him 
about  the  salary  that  Uncle  James  had  mentioned,  he 
wouldn't  consider  it,  at  least  to  start.  Later,  when  we 
had  lunch  together,  he  told  me  that  if  I  made  good,  I 
could  have  even  more." 

"What  is  the  salary?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardwick.  There 
was  a  cold  severity  in  her  look  and  tone  which  indicated 
plainly  that  experience  had  taught  her  some  lessons  with 
regard  to  her  husband,  not  all  of  which  had  been 
pleasant. 
,  "Thirty-five  hundred,"  he  answered. 

"Thirty-five  hundred!"  she  exclaimed,  not  loudly, 
but  with  intense  scorn.  "You  let  him  induce  you  to  take 
the  position  at  that  salary?" 

"It  was  the  best  I  could  do." 

"Why,  Uncle  James  said  distinctly  that  the  position 
paid  five  thousand." 

"I  know  he  did,  that  is,  that  was  what  Mr.  McNair, 
my  predecessor,  got.  But  Pemberton  wouldn't  give  that 
much  to  me  to  start." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  25 

"Who  is  this  Pemberton,  anyway?  What  right  has  he 
to  presume  to  set  aside  Uncle  James'  promises?  I'll 
speak  to  Uncle  James  about  it." 

"No,  you  mustn't,"  said  Hard  wick  hurriedly.  "That's 
one  condition  that  Pemberton  made  and  I  accepted. 
He  made  it  a  distinct  condition  that  I  was  not  to  use 
your  influence  with  Uncle  James  to  have  my  salary 
increased.  He  said  it  must  depend  only  on  my  value  to 
the  Company." 

"I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing."  Mrs.  Hardwick  was 
becoming  indignant.  Her  voice  was  just  a  shade  louder. 

Hardwick,  who  had  learned  by  much  experience,  was 
silent.  His  wife  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  evidently 
expecting  some  word  from  him,  but,  when  none  came, 
went  on: 

"  I  hope  you'll  kindly  point  out  to  me  how  we're  going 
to  get  along  on  thirty-five  hundred  dollars?" 

"We'll  have  to  figure  that  out,"  answered  Hardwick, 
laconically. 

"Ha,  ha,"  laughed  Mrs.  Hardwick,  scornfully.  "That 
will  take  a  much  better  mathematician,  my  dear,  than 
I  believe  you  are." 

Hardwick  was  becoming  angry,  although  he  strove 
to  remain  calm.  When  his  wife  used  this  tone,  accom 
panied  by  a  peculiar  little  cackling  laugh,  it  aroused  an 
emotion  which  made  him  wish  to  do  bodily  injury  to 
someone.  By  a  great  effort,  he  held  himself  in  this  time 
and  said  nothing.  Not  so  his  spouse. 


26  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"What's  to  become  of  Alice's  going  to  college?" 

"See  here,  Florrie,"  he  said,  striving  to  hide  his 
irritation,  "we  don't  have  to  settle  that  now,  do  we?" 

"You  don't  want  to  go  to  college,  do  you,  Allie?"  said 
Marian  with  the  idea  of  clearing  the  atmosphere. 

Alice  did  not  answer.  She  did  want  to  go  to  college 
and  her  mother's  question  had  brought  her  a  lively 
sense  of  disappointment.  Mrs.  Hardwick,  however,  did 
not  notice  Alice.  She  was  bent  on  venting  her  spleen  and 
her  husband's  attempt,  as  she  saw  it,  to  dodge  the  issue 
but  increased  her  determination. 

"Marian,"  she  said,  sharply,  "you  will  please  be 
silent."  Marian  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  pouted.  She 
could  do  this  safely,  for  her  mother  was  not  looking  at 
her.  Instead  she  was  fixedly  regarding  her  husband,  to 
whom  she  next  addressed  herself. 

"That's  you  all  over.  If  you  can  only  postpone  the 
decision  of  a  question,  you  consider  it  as  good  as  settled. 
This  is  really  a  very  serious  matter.  My  Uncle  James," 
the  accent  on  the  word  "my"  still  further  exasperated 
Hardwick.  "My  Uncle  James,"  she  went  on,  "obtains 
for  you  a  position  in  the  Company,  of  which  he  has  the 
honor  of  being  president,  at  a  salary  of  five  thousand 
dollars,  and  you  accept  the  position  from  one  of  his 
underlings  at  a  little  more  than  half  of  that  extremely 
moderate  sum.  I'm  sure  I've  always  done  my  duty,  I 
have  shared  your — " 

But  Hardwick  could  hear  no  more.  When  the  partner 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  27 

of  his  joys  and  sorrows  embarked  on  a  recital  of  the 
latter,  he  knew  that  to  listen  would  cause  him  a  loss  of 
control  which  he  would  regret  not  only  because  he  had 
suffered  it,  but  also  because  it  would  open  new  vessels 
of  recrimination  to  be  poured  on  his  already  weary  head. 
He  got  up  and  walked  up  the  stairs  to  the  bathroom,  the 
door  of  which  he  locked  after  him. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  not  content  with  this  evidence  of 
her  victory  but  went  on  with  the  recital  for  the  benefit 
of  her  daughters.  The  tone  was  now  plaintive,  mixed 
occasionally  with  the  sarcastic,  accompanied  always  by 
the  cackling  laughter  which  so  annoyed  her  husband. 

Marian  paid  her  scant  attention.  She  did  not  dare  to 
leave  the  room  as  her  father  had  done,  although  she 
devoutly  wished  that  she  were  able  to  do  so.  Alice,  on 
the  other  hand,  listened  to  her  mother  with  attention 
and  sympathy. 

The  contrast  between  the  two  girls  was  striking.  Alice, 
not  yet  fully  matured,  gave  promise  of  inheriting  the 
large  frame  of  her  mother.  Her  features  were  somewhat 
less  salient  than  hers,  but  there  was  no  doubt  that,  with 
the  sharpening  of  age,  they  would  have  the  same  quality. 
Her  hair  was  a  light  brown  and  her  complexion  was  non 
descript,  being  neither  blonde  nor  brunette  but  partak 
ing  of  the  character  of  both.  Finally,  her  only  claim 
to  beauty  was  youthfulness. 

Marian,  on  the  other  hand,  was  distinctly  pretty.  She 
was  a  true  blonde  with  delicate  aristocratic  features, 


28  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

which  as  yet  gave  promise  rather  than  represented  final 
development.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  undoubted  charm 
of  her  face  was  due  to  the  vivacity  of  her  expression 
rather  than  any  approach  to  perfection  of  feature.  She 
had  the  bright  color  of  health  and  her  petite  though 
vigorous  body  proclaimed  the  healthy  child. 

Mrs.  Hardwick's  tirade  lasted  for  about  ten  minutes. 
When  she  had  completely  exhausted  the  subject,  which 
means  that  she  had  used  up  her  temporary  stock  of  com 
plaint,  indignation  and  sarcasm,  she  left  the  room  and 
repaired  to  the  kitchen  to  supervise  the  final  preparation 
of  their  dinner  by  a  small,  rather  incompetent  maid. 

As  soon  as  the  sound  of  her  voice  ceased,  Hardwick 
came  downstairs.  He  knew  the  storm  was  over  for  the 
present. 

Some  neighbors  called  during  the  evening  and  there 
was  no  opportunity  to  discuss  the  subject  of  Hardwick's 
new  position  until  after  their  departure.  By  that  time 
the  two  girls  had  retired. 

When  their  guests  had  gone,  Hardwick  expected  that 
his  wife  would  revert  to  the  subject.  He  was  so  sure  of 
it  that  her  silence  made  him  somewhat  uncomfortable. 
She  spoke  of  sundry  other  matters  which  appeared  to 
claim  her  interest  but  which  had  none  for  him.  At  length, 
when  they  were  getting  ready  for  bed,  he  took  the  first 
opportunity  which  presented  itself  to  go  back  to  the 
matter. 

"Listen,  Florrie,"  he  said,  "I'm  going  to  do  well  in  this 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  29 

new  job.  It's  going  to  be  a  matter  of  only  a  few  months 
before  I  have  my  salary  put  on  the  proper  basis.  Of 
course,  it's  going  to  be  awfully  tight  scraping  for  a  little 
while,  but  I  know  it  won't  be  long.  I've  never  started  on 
a  new  job  with  the  enthusiasm  that  I  have  now.  Perhaps 
it's  the  idea  of  working  under  Pemberton.  Really,  he's 
the  most  wonderful  young  fellow  I've  ever  met.  Clean 
cut,  straightforward  hardly  describes  him.  He  comes 
right  out  with,  What  he  has  to  say;  no  shilly-shallying  of 
any  kind.  And  he  seems  to  guess  what's  in  your  mind 
almost  before  you  know  it  yourself. 

"I'm  almost  glad  I'm  starting  as  I  am.  Not  the  low 
salary,  of  course,  although  that  won't  be  for  long.  But  on 
the  basis  of  going  into  a  big,  successful  concern  with  a 
real  advertising  department  and  run  by  a  man  who 
knows  what's  what.  At  the  Harness  Company,  they  used 
to  make  me  sweat  for  every  cent  that  went  into  their 
advertising."  He  paused,  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Hardwick 
for  approval  or  sympathy.  He  saw  that  he  had  her 
attention,  but  neither  the  approval  nor  the  sympathy 
that  he  craved.  She  said  nothing,  so  he  went  on: 

"I've  never  fait  as  capable  as  I  do  today.  I'm  brimful 
of  energy  and  ideas.  And  ideas  are  what  count.  I'm 
going  to  show  them  a  thing  or  two.  If  I  don't  make 
McNair  look  like  a  two-cent  piece,  my  name  isn't  Hard- 
wick." 

"It's  going  to  be  awfully  hard,  Henry,"  his  wife  said, 
after  a  short  silence.  She  had  seated  herself  in  an  arm- 


30  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

chair  and  was  gazing  into  vacancy.  She  wore  a  subdued 
tragic  impression.  Hardwick's  cue,  impressed  on  him 
by  many  similar  interviews,  was  an  air  of  sympathetic 
interest  and  he  acted  on  it. 

"I  suppose,"  she  went  on,  "I  can  add  to  the  family 
exchequer  by  my  pen.  Only  today  I  was  speaking  on 
the  telephone  with  Mr.  Purnell,  the  editor  of  The  Times, 
and  he  said  he  had  been  much  interested  in  my  essay  on 
Rousseau.  He  saw  it  in  the  magazine  and  was  quite 
lavish  in  his  praise  of  it."  She  was  quickening  per 
ceptibly. 

The  change  of  subject  seemed  to  stimulate  her  and 
apparently  made  her  forget  her  trouble  of  but  a  moment 
before.  "I'm  quite  sure,"  she  went  on,  "that  Mr.  Purnell 
would  be  delighted  to  have  a  series  of  articles  from  me  on 
literary  subjects.  Of  course,  I  should  have  to  make  some 
concession  in  view  of  the  popular  audience.  I  have  long 
felt  that  the  editors  of  our  leading  newspapers  must  feel 
that  the  cultural  possibilities  of  their  journals  should  be 
exploited.  For  instance, — "  She  was  growing  quite  warm 
now  and  Hardwick  knew  that  silent  approval  on  his 
part  would  remove,  at  least  for  a  day  or  two,  all  traces 
of  her  previous  indignation.  Therefore,  he  did  not  point 
out  to  her  the  well-known  fact  that  newspapers  were 
operated  by  their  business  departments  with  a  view 
solely  to  making  money  and  that  there  was  no  money 
in  literature  per  se.  To  mention  this  world  have  brought 
on  another  argument  and,  uxoriously,  Hardwick  was  a 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  31 

"peace  at  any  price"  man.  Wisely,  therefore,  he  held  his 
tongue. 

"For  instance,"  continued  Mrs.  Hard  wick,  "a  series 
of  short  articles  dealing  in  turn  with  the  great  names  of 
the  Victorian  era  could  not  fail  to  interest  a  large  num 
ber  of  readers  who  are  actually  hungry  for  such  pabu 
lum.  Only  yesterday,  I  was  speaking  with  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son  and  she  agreed  with  me  entirely." 

And  so  on.  It  was  midnight  before  Hardwick  got  to 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  IV 

PROMPTLY  at  nine-thirty  the  next  morning, 
Hardwick  sent  in  his  name  to  Pemberton.  The 
telephone  operator  in  the  outer  office  told  him 
that  Mr.  Pemberton  would  see  him  in  a  few  minutes  and 
asked  him  to  take  a  seat. 

As  he  waited,  he  looked  about  him  with  interest.  He 
was  to  be  part  of  this  smooth-running  machine  and  he 
was  happy  at  the  prospect.  It  seemed  to  him  that  never 
had  he  seen  an  office  in  which  there  was  so  little  lost 
motion.  Everyone  appeared  to  be  working  quietly, 
industriously,  and  yet  without  haste.  There  was  no 
talking  between  the  members  of  the  office  force  within 
his  sight  except  that  which  had  the  look  of  being  part 
of  their  necessary  work.  Efficiency,  directness,  and  order 
were  the  keynote. 

His  hopes  surged  high  within  him.  Here  was  his  oppor 
tunity.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  was  starting  right. 
Always  before,  he  had  begun  a  new  venture  with  high 
hopes,  but  each  time  he  had  not  gone  far  before  he  had 
encountered  insuperable  difficulties.  Either  the  oppor 
tunity  for  his  best  work  was  not  present  or  circumstances 
beyond  his  control  had  cramped  his  effort.  Even  now,  in 
the  jubilation  which  he  felt,  he  tried  to  persuade  him 
self  that  it  was  merely  the  novelty  which  made  him 
so  hopeful,  and  that  wisdom  would  suggest  caution  in 

32 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  33 

making  his  appraisal.  But  he  could  not  convince  himself, 
he  could  not  down  the  sanguine  expectation  of  real  suc 
cess  which  controlled  him.  Under  a  wide-awake,  go- 
ahead  man  like  Pemberton,  with  an  organization  keyed 
to  the  highest  pitch,  with  a  nation-wide  distribution  to 
dispose  of  the  products  of  the  factory,  there  could  be 
but  one  result.  The  only  question  was  as  to  his  ability 
to  handle  the  work  allotted  to  him.  And  on  that  score 
Hardwick  had  no  fear  at  all.  He  felt  himself  better  and 
stronger  than  ever  before,  mentally  as  well  as  physically. 
He  would  be  able,  not  only  to  do  as  good  work  as  was 
expected  of  him,  but  better,  much  better.  He  would 
bring  to  it  a  wealth  of  experience  of  advertising  in  its 
every  aspect  and,  in  addition  (he  felt  sure  he  was  not 
overrating  his  ability),  far  more  than  ordinary  ingenuity 
hi  the  formulation  of  effective  advertising  campaigns. 
He  rated  himself  no  mean  student  of  psychology,  not  in 
the  academic  sense,  but  in  a  practical  way,  as  applied 
to  his  chosen  work. 

Optimism  was  a  marked  characteristic  in  Hardwick, 
and  his  imagination  painted  a  brilliant  picture  of  his 
future  with  the  Prescott  Company.  Not  a  definite  pic 
ture,  with  precise  details,  but  by  reason  of  its  very 
indefiniteness,  all  the  more  colorful. 

While  he  was  thus  pleasantly  engaged,  he  was  told 
by  the  telephone  operator  that  Mr.  Pemberton  would 
see  him  now  and  he  got  up  from  his  chair  and  walked 
into  the  business  manager's  private  office. 


34  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Pemberton  greeted  him  with  a  nod  and  motioned  him 
to  a  chair.  He  made  no  apology  for  having  kept  him 
waiting.  Strange  to  say,  Hardwick  did  not  expect  it  of 
him,  although  he  would  have  been  surprised  at  such 
action  on  the  part  of  anyone  else,  perhaps  because  he, 
himself,  was  most  scrupulous  in  the  observance  of  all 
forms  of  courtesy. 

"The  advertising  department,"  Pemberton  began,  "is 
temporarily  in  the  hands  of  Miss  Bernstein.  She's  been 
with  us  for  several  years  and  she  knows  every  detail  of 
the  work  thoroughly.  She'll  be  your  right-hand  man  and 
you'll  find  her  most  competent  in  every  respect.  I'll 
send  for  her  directly  and  introduce  you.  You  can  then 
have  her  post  you  as  to  where  the  work  stands." 

Hardwick  did  not  like  the  name  of  his  assistant.  It 
sounded  Jewishand  he  did  not  like  Jews.  In  common  with 
the  rest  of  the  world,  he  attempted  to  justify  his  preju 
dices  by  believing  them  to  be  judgments  based  on 
reason.  In  the  case  of  Jews,  he  had  no  reason  to  offer 
which  even  he  was  willing  to  look  upon  as  valid.  He 
simply  did  not  like  them,  that  was  all. 

However,  there  was  no  sign  of  his  feeling  in  the  nod  of 
acquiescence  which  he  gave  to  Pemberton.  He  was  all 
attention.  Never  had  he  been  so  much  interested. 

"There's  no  use  of  my  giving  you  any  instructions 
until  you  have  gone  over  matters  with  Miss  Bernstein. 
I'd  like  you  to  get  the  hang  of  things  in  a  general  way. 
You  can  put  in  the  rest  of  the  morning  at  that  and  see 
me  here  in  this  office  at  two-thirty." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  35 

"Very  well,"  answered  Hardwick. 

Pemberton  pressed  a  button  at  the  side  of  his  desk 
and  a  boy  appeared. 

"Send  Miss  Bernstein  to  me,"  he  ordered. 

In  less  than  a  minute  the  door  of  the  office  opened  and 
a  young  woman  appeared.  She  was  about  twenty-five 
years  old,  less  than  the  average  height  and  distinctly 
good-looking.  While  her  face  was  not  of  the  type  that  is 
most  frequent  among  Jewesses,  there  was  some  elusive 
quality  in  it  which  made  her  name  appropriate.  She 
was  a  brunette,  that  is,  her  hair  was  a  dark  brown  while 
her  skin  was  fair,  not  the  "peaches  and  cream"  of  the 
blonde,  but  still  not  the  ivory  color  of  the  brunette. 
Her  eyes  were  beautiful,  large,  limpid,  gray  in  color. 
Her  nose  was  aquiline  and  rather  thin.  Her  mouth  was 
not  small,  but  it  was  well  shaped  with  lips  not  too  full. 
It  expressed  determination  and  character  and  was  com 
pletely  the  reverse  of  sensual.  Her  chin  was  in  propor 
tion  to  the  rest  of  her  features.  Her  figure  was  beautiful, 
its  slenderness  and  grace  impressed  themselves  on  Hard- 
wick  in  spite  of  the  almost  primness  of  her  self-effacing 
dress.  Altogether,  she  expressed  intelligence,  keenness, 
activity,  and,  despite  his  prejudice  against  her  race,  he 
was  delighted  with  her. 

Pemberton  introduced  them  and  gave  some  general 
instructions.  He  wasted  no  time  either  in  preliminaries 
or  in  any  talk  following  the  statement  of  his  wishes. 
There  was  a  finality  in  the  tone  he  used  in  his  last  sen 
tence  that  dismissed  them. 


36  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Hardwick  followed  Miss  Bernstein  into  the  office  of 
the  advertising  department.  This  was  a  large  room  with 
six  flat  top  desks  for  clerks  and  one  large  desk  by  the 
window  which  proved  to  be  his,  for  Miss  Bernstein  led 
him  to  it.  Close  by  it  was  a  smaller  desk,  one  of  the  kind 
which  holds  a  typewriter  hi  its  depths.  This  was  her 
desk  and  she  leaned  against  it,  while  he  hung  up  his  hat 
on  a  rack  back  of  his  chair,  and  waited  for  him  to  speak. 

"  I  presume  this  is  my  desk,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "and  this  is  mine.  You  needn't 
have  it  so  close  to  yours  if  you  don't  want  it.  Mr.  McNair 
had  it  brought  here." 

"We'll  see  about  that  later.  Now,  Miss  Bernstein,  I'm 
going  to  put  myself  into  your  hands.  Just  take  it  for 
granted  that  I  don't  know  anything  at  all  and  tell  me 
everything  you  can." 

"Perhaps  it  might  be  better  if  you  were  to  give  me 
an  idea  of  the  order  hi  which  you  prefer  to  take  up  the 
different  parts  of  the  work." 

Hardwick  noted  the  beauty  of  her  voice.  Its  pitch 
was  deep  and  most  musical.  Her  enunciation  was  clear 
and  she  uttered  each  word  distinctly.  Her  manner, 
while  cordial,  was  quite  impersonal.  The  thought  came 
into  Hardwick's  mind  that  she  was,  in  a  way,  a  feminine 
counterpart  of  Pemberton,  but  a  much  softened  Pem- 
berton ;  the  efficiency,  the  directness  without  the  brusque- 
ness,  the  almost-brutality. 

"No,"  he  answered,  "just  follow  your  own  idea.  If 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  37 

there  is  anything  which  isn't  clear  to  me,  I'll  ask  you  to 
explain.  And  when  you're  all  through,  undoubtedly  I 
shall  want  you  to  tell  me  quite  a  lot  of  things." 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  and  began  an  account  of  the 
methods  of  handling  their  business.  She  spoke  without 
haste,  expressing  herself  clearly  and  straightforwardly 
without  any  apparent  effort  to  choose  her  words.  Hard- 
wick  marveled  at  her  grasp  of  the  business.  She  seemed 
to  be  perfectly  familiar,  not  only  with  all  of  the  details, 
but  with  the  general  policy  of  the  business  as  well,  both 
as  to  the  selling  and  advertising.  From  time  to  time, 
Hardwick  put  questions  to  her,  to  all  of  which  she 
returned  completely  satisfying  answers. 

When  the  conduct  of  the  advertising  department  had 
been  thoroughly  gone  over,  Hardwick  said: 

"Thank  you  very  much.  I  think  I  have  a  general 
idea  of  how  you  do  things.  In  the  beginning,  I'll  have 
to  depend  on  you  for  a  lot  of  help." 

"I'll  be  glad  to  do  whatever  I  can,  Mr.  Hardwick," 
she  said  simply.  He  was  again  impressed  by  the  imper 
sonality  of  her  manner,  there  was  not  the  least  vestige 
of  coquetry;  she  seemed  to  be  interested  solely  in  her 
function  as  part  of  the  advertising  department.  Her  tone 
was  pleasant  but  her  look  was  altogether  serious.  He  felt 
that  she  was  quite  an  unusual  kind  of  girl.  A  sudden  idea 
seized  him. 

"I  wonder  why  Mr.  Pemberton  didn't  offer  you  the 
position  of  advertising  manager." 


38  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"  He  did,"  she  answered. 

"Why  didn't  you  take  it?"  he  asked,  really  curious. 

"I  did  not  care  to  take  the  responsibility,  and — "  she 
paused. 

"And  what?"  he  asked,  as  she  showed  no  disposition 
to  continue. 

"Oh!  Just  that,"  she  said.  Then,  changing  the  sub 
ject,  "Shall  I  get  out  those  letters  to  the  trade-papers?" 

Hardwick  saw  that  she  did  not  wish  to  continue  the 
conversation.  He  was  disappointed,  for  his  curiosity  had 
really  been  aroused. 

"Yes,  please,"  he  said  and  picked  up  some  of  the 
papers  she  had  given  him  and  set  himself  to  mastering 
their  contents. 

This  occupied  him  for  about  half  an  hour.  When  he 
had  finished,  he  called  Miss  Bernstein  and  asked  her  for 
the  files  containing  copies  of  the  advertising  matter  they 
were  using.  She  had  it  brought  to  his  desk,  and  he  spent 
the  rest  of  the  morning  studying  it  carefully. 

This  was  a  subject  in  which  he  felt  himself  at  home. 
For  many  years,  he  had  been  producing  just  this  sort  of 
thing.  What  he  had  before  him  he  found  good,  well  exe 
cuted  but  lacking  in  imagination.  It  was  too  prosaic  by 
far;  it  seemed  to  take  too  much  for  granted.  He  knew 
he  could  do  better  and  his  confidence  of  success  was  again 
heightened.  This  would  be  easy  to  beat.  He  would  show 
them  stuff  that  would  bring  results;  he  would  compel 
Pemberton's  approval. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  39 

He  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  thought;  a  hundred  ideas 
seemed  to  be  clamoring  for  attention.  He  was  so 
engrossed  that  the  sound  of  Miss  Bernstein's  voice 
startled  him. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Hardwick,"  she  said.  "Mr. 
Cummings,  the  representative  of  the  hardware  trade 
journal,  is  here.  He  asked  for  Mr.  McNair.  Do  you  wish 
to  see  him?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Hardwick,  "send  him  in."  He  was 
pleased  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  Cummings,  whom  he 
had  known  for  years.  He  craved  the  latter's  admiration 
of  his  success  in  becoming  advertising  manager  of  the 
Prescott  Company. 

The  visitor  came  to  him  in  less  than  a  minute.  There 
were  the  usual  salutations,  felicitations  and  conversation 
appropriate  to  the  occasion,  ending  by  an  agreement  to 
lunch  together. 

Hardwick  returned  to  his  desk  at  two  o'clock  and 
spent  the  next  half  hour  questioning  Miss  Bernstein  as 
to  various  details  of  their  work.  She  again  answered  all 
of  his  questions  to  his  complete  satisfaction,  showing  the 
most  intimate  knowledge  of  the  business  in  every  detail 
within  the  scope  of  his  questions.  Again  he  marveled  at 
her  ability,  and,  above  all,  at  the  complete  absence  of 
self-consciousness  which  she  displayed.  Her  mind 
appeared  to  be  a  registering  machine  which  functioned 
quite  independently  of  her  intimate  personality.  At 
least,  so  it  appeared  to  Hardwick,  to  whom  it  did  not 


40  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

occur  that  perhaps  this  very  absorption  in  the  minutiae 
of  her  work  might  be  her  greatest  interest. 

Promptly  at  half-past  two,  he  telephoned  to  Pem- 
berton's  office  and  learned  that  the  latter  was  ready  to 
see  him. 

Pemberton  was  sitting  at  his  desk.  As  usual,  there 
was  no  evidence  of  any  activity  on  his  part.  There  were 
no  papers  in  sight;  in  fact,  the  fantastic  thought  crossed 
Hardwick's  mind  that,  as  far  as  evidence  to  the  contrary 
went,  nothing  might  have  been  done  by  Pemberton  in 
the  nearly  five  hours  that  had  elapsed  since  he  last  saw 
him. 

"How  are  you  getting  along?"  Pemberton  asked.  He 
did  not  invite  Hardwick  to  sit  down.  However,  some 
thing  in  his  tone  encouraged  the  latter  to  do  so.  It 
appeared  that  Pemberton  was  not  prodigal  of  small  acts 
of  courtesy  although,  at  the  same  time,  his  omission  of 
them  was  without  the  accentuation  necessary  to  imply 
rudeness. 

"  I'm  getting  the  hang  of  things,  thanks  to  Miss  Bern 
stein.  She  seems  to  know  everything." 

"Yes;  she's  a  most  unusual  young  woman.  However," 
Pemberton  went  on  hastily,  almost  as  though  he 
regretted  his  slight  divagation,  "you'll  require  a  few 
weeks  to  become  acquainted  with  all  the  details  of  the 
work.  In  the  meantime,  you  will  depend  more  or  less  on 
Miss  Bernstein."  He  eyed  Hardwick  keenly.  Evidently, 
he  was  looking  for  something  in  the  latter's  expression, 
but,  whatever  it  was,  it  was  known  only  to  himself. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  41 

"I  want  to  give  you  a  few  general  instructions  only," 
he  went  on,  after  the  briefest  pause.  "  It  is  not  my  custom 
to  interfere  with  any  man's  work.  You  have  your  own 
idea  of  things,  and  the  only  way  you  can  work  well  is 
according  to  this  idea  of  your  own  and  not  somebody 
else's.  On  matters  of  general  policy,  I  expect  to  be  con 
sulted.  Outside  of  that,  within  the  limits  upon  which  we 
agree,  you  will  be  your  own  master.  I  judge  by  results 
only.  I  shall  not  criticize  your  way  of  obtaining  them. 

"However,  I  want  you  to  report  to  me  from  time  to 
tune,  giving  me  an  idea  of  what  you  are  doing.  You  will 
also  attend  the  weekly  conference  of  heads  of  depart 
ments,  every  Monday  at  two-thirty,  in  the  directors' 
room."  He  paused  again.  After  a  moment  of  silence, 
Hard  wick  said: 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Pemberton,"  and  made  as  if  to  go. 

"Wait,  I'm  not  through.  You  are  going  to  buy  quite 
a  lot  of  printing.  I  don't  suppose  it  is  necessary  to  tell 
a  man  of  your  experience  how  to  do  it,  but  I'm  going  to 
say  a  few  words  on  the  subject.  There  is  nothing  more 
difficult  to  buy  right.  I  won't  go  into  details,  there  are 
too  many  of  them.  I'll  only  tell  you  that,  in  the  long  run, 
you'll  get  from  the  printer  just  about  what  you  pay  for. 
The  proper  course  is  to  decide  exactly  what  you  want  in 
advance,  down  to  the  last  item,  and  buy  it  from  some 
one  who  really  can  furnish  it  at  a  fair  price.  You  have 
been  in  the  printing  business  yourself  and  you  know  just 
what  I  mean,  so  there's  no  occasion  to  go  into  any  fur- 


42  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

ther  details.  All  I'll  say  is:  Don't  leave  it  to  the  printer. 
"Another  thing — I  saw  you  at  lunch  today  with 
Cummings.  My  advice  to  you  is  to  keep  as  free  from  the 
people  you  do  business  with  as  you  can.  You  know  just 
what  I  mean,  so  we'll  not  discuss  that  matter  any 
further."  He  got  up  from  his  chair,  which  was  a  sign  that 
the  interview  was  over.  Hardwick  left,  feeling  somewhat 
uncomfortable. 


CHAPTER  V 

BY  Thursday  of  the  following  week,  Hardwick  had 
laid  out  a  campaign  of  direct  advertising  to  the 
retail  dealers.  He  had  worked  very  hard  at  it, 
both  in  the  office  and  at  home,  late  into  the  night.  He 
had  planned  every  detail  and  had  brought  to  the  task 
the  best  that  was  in  him.  Never  had  he  been  more  inter 
ested.  It  was  not  only  the  newness  of  his  position  which 
made  the  work  attractive;  he  had  as  well  a  strong  incen 
tive  in  his  intense  desire  to  win  Pemberton's  approval. 
He  had  had  no  occasion  to  go  to  the  latter's  office  since 
his  visit  on  the  afternoon  of  his  first  day  with  the  com 
pany.  He  had  seen  him  at  the  conference  of  heads  of 
departments  on  Monday  but  had  not  spoken  to  him. 
Pemberton  had  introduced  him  to  the  men,  and  Hard- 
wick  had  said  a  few  words  to  them,  devoting  himself 
almost  entirely  to  a  plea  for  their  co-operation.  His 
manner  was  modest  and  he  made  an  excellent  impres 
sion. 

On  Thursday  morning  he  submitted  his  work  to 
Miss  Bernstein.  She  went  over  it  with  him  with  great 
care  and  evident  interest.  She  made  no  comment,  which 
disappointed  him,  as  he  was  anxious  for  praise.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  she  might  be  held  from  an  expres 
sion  of  opinion  by  shyness,  feeling  that  it  would  be 
presumptuous  to  offer  it  without  being  asked.  So  Hard- 
wick  put  the  question: 

43 


44  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"I  think  it's  excellent." 

But  that  was  all.  Hardwick  had  hoped  for  some 
enthusiasm. 

During  the  morning,  he  went  over  the  whole  matter 
again  in  fine  detail  to  assure  himself  that  he  had  not 
overlooked  anything,  and,  when  he  was  through,  he 
telephoned  to  Pemberton  for  an  appointment.  It  was 
set  for  four  o'clock  that  afternoon. 

Pemberton  examined  his  layouts  and  listened  to  his 
explanation  with  interest.  He  asked  a  number  of  pointed 
questions,  to  all  of  which  Hardwick  was  able  to  make 
prompt  and  satisfactory  answers.  When  the  whole  mat 
ter  had  been  gone  over  thoroughly,  Pemberton  said: 

"  That's  all  right,  Mr.  Hardwick,  I  have  no  suggestions 
to  offer." 

Hardwick  was  elated.  He  had  had  no  expectation  of 
praise  from  his  superior,  that  is,  an  expression  of  admira 
tion.  From  a  man  like  Pemberton,  unqualified  approval 
was  the  highest  praise. 

On  Friday,  he  called  in  several  printers,  to  whom  he 
submitted  his  layouts  and  asked  for  estimates  on  the 
work. 

Among  the  bidders  was  his  former  employer,  Albright. 
The  latter  took  it  for  granted  that  their  previous  asso 
ciation  would  make  him  a  preferred  bidder,  and  inti 
mated  as  much  to  Hardwick. 

"Nothing  doing,  old  man,"  said  the  latter.  "There 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  45 

are  going  to  be  just  four  bidders  on  this  work  and  they're 
all  going  to  have  exactly  the  same  specifications.  You'll 
have  just  one  chance  to  bid.  Any  one  of  the  four  I've 
selected  can  do  the  work  right.  You'll  have  nothing  to 
figure  on  that  can't  be  specified  exactly.  All  designs  and 
engravings  will  be  furnished  by  us,  and  the  specifica 
tions  will  be  complete.  I'll  see  to  it  that  there  will  be  no 
chance  for  any  misunderstanding." 

"Who  are  the  other  bidders,  Harry?"  asked  Albright. 

Hardwick  mentioned  them. "  I  guess  they're  all  0.  K., 
aren't  they?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so.  I  don't  think  any  of  them  are  in 
our  class." 

"Well,  they  suit  me,  and  if  you  think  they're  not  in 
your  class,  perhaps  you'd  better  not  bid  at  all,  because 
I'm  going  to  consider  their  bids  right  alongside  of  yours." 

"All  right,  I'll  take  a  shot  at  it.  Let's  see  the  stuff." 

Hardwick  showed  it  to  him.  When  all  necessary 
explanation  had  been  made,  he  called  Miss  Bernstein 
and  offered  to  introduce  her  to  Albright,  but  it  was 
unnecessary;  they  had  met  before. 

"  I'm  going  to  put  this  whole  job  in  Miss  Bernstein's 
charge,"  said  Hardwick,  "you  can  see  her  about  it  in 
future.  It's  out  of  my  hands." 

Hardwick  had  several  reasons  for  this  action,  but 
the  most  important  was  his  desire  to  hold  to  the  letter 
of  Pemberton's  advice  to  keep  himself  free  from  the 
people  with  whom  he  would  have  to  do  business.  He  did 


46  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

not  altogether  mistrust  himself,  but  he  felt  that  he  was 
almost  too  well  acquainted  with  all  of  the  bidders,  hav 
ing  met  them  frequently  in  his  long  association  with  the 
printing  and  advertising  business.  In  fact,  he  felt  rather 
under  obligations  to  some  of  them  for  favors  of  various 
kinds  in  the  past  and  he  preferred  to  set  up  a  buffer 
between  himself  and  them. 

Miss  Bernstein  displayed  neither  pleasure  nor  vexa 
tion  at  having  this  work  thrust  upon  her.  She  accepted 
the  task  as  part  of  the  routine. 

The  girl  puzzled  Hardwick  greatly.  In  his  long  busi 
ness  experience,  he  had  naturally  been  thrown  much 
into  association  with  women.  As  a  rule,  they  were  willing 
workers,  doing  what  was  allotted  to  them  to  the  best  of 
their  ability.  Most  of  them  had  no  real  interest  hi  their 
work  beyond  the  desire  to  do  it  well  enough  to  hold  their 
positions.  Their  real  lives  were  elsewhere.  Their  one 
ambition  being  marriage,  their  work  was  merely  a  tem 
porary  affair.  Most  of  them  had  either  fiances,  generally 
men  who  would  not  be  in  a  position  to  marry  for  a  long 
time,  or  else  had  a  number  of  possible  suitors,  none  of 
whom  was  finally  committed.  And  the  greater  part  of 
the  remainder  were  on  the  look-out. 

But  whatever  their  state  with  regard  to  their  matri 
monial  expectations,  the  vast  majority  of  them  never 
entirely  sank  their  sex  in  their  business.  They  could  not 
be  accused  of  outright  coquetry,  but  they  would  never 
let  it  be  forgotten  that  they  were  women  first  and 
employees  second. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  47 

But  this  girl  was  all  business.  It  was  evident  that  she 
knew  nothing  else  within  the  office,  whatever  her  life 
might  be  outside  of  it.  She  brought  to  her  work  an 
intense  interest  that  seemed  to  warrant  the  conviction 
that  it  was  her  true  vocation.  Almost  constantly  asso 
ciated  with  her,  Hardwick  never  ceased  to  wonder  at 
her  complete  absorption  in  her  work. 

His  was  a  genial  nature.  He  enjoyed  the  compan 
ionship  of  those  with  whom  his  business  brought  him 
into  contact.  There  was  very  little  reserve  in  his  manner. 
He  enjoyed  joviality  and  was  jovial  himself.  It  had 
always  been  his  custom  to  be  on  the  most  friendly  terms 
with  all  of  his  associates  in  business,  of  whatever  rank. 

But  intimacy  seemed  impossible  with  Miss  Bernstein. 
She  responded  to  his  morning  greeting  politely  but  in  a 
manner  which  cut  off  the  possibility  of  further  friendly 
conversation.  Although  she  attracted  him,  he  had  no 
ulterior  motive  in  desiring  to  be  on  a  friendly  footing 
with  her;  it  was  simply  because  it  was  his  nature.  Her 
complete  reserve  intensified  this  desire  by  making 
special  what  otherwise  would  have  been  merely  general. 

As  yet,  he  scarcely  knew  the  other  women  in  his 
department.  With  one  exception,  Miss  Henderson,  a 
stenographer,  they  were  mere  clerks  doing  the  most  per 
functory  kind  of  routine  work,  and  there  was  no  occa 
sion  for  him  to  come  into  direct  contact  with  them. 
They  received  their  instructions  from  Miss  Bernstein. 

On  Friday,  after  the  latter  had  gone  out  to  lunch, 


48  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Hardwick,  who  had  been  dictating  some  letters  to  Miss 
Henderson,  fell  into  conversation  with  her.  It  began 
through  his  giving  her  some  instructions. 

"When  those  last  two  letters  are  written,"  he  said, 
"will  you  please  give  them  to  Miss  Bernstein?" 

"Will  she  sign  them?"  she  asked. 

"No;  I  merely  want  her  to  go  over  them  to  verify 
certain  details." 

Miss  Henderson  made  no  answer.  As  she  sat  there, 
apparently  awaiting  either  further  dictation  or  dis 
missal,  Hardwick,  unaccountably  to  himself,  was  moved 
to  say: 

"She's  a  very  bright  girl,  isn't  she?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  Henderson,  rather  grudgingly, 
it  appeared  to  Hardwick. 

"You  seem  to  think  I  overrate  her,"  he  remarked, 
eyeing  her. 

"Oh!  no,"  she  made  haste  to  answer.  "She's  bright 
enough,  but  she's  awful  queer." 

"Queer?  How?"  Hard  wick's  curiosity  was  aroused. 

"Oh!  I  don't  know.  She's  kind  of  high  and  mighty; 
seems  to  think  she's  better  than  the  rest  of  us.  Her!" 
this  last  scornfully.  She  had  been  looking  at  her  note 
book,  but  now  she  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  directly 
at  him.  He  noticed  that  she  was  quite  a  good-looking 
young  woman,  not  noteworthy  in  any  particular,  just 
the  ordinary  type,  with  fairly  regular  features,  dark 
hair  and  a  fair  complexion,  altogether  commonplace  and 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  49 

yet  she  was  not  unattractive,  as  she  sat  there  in  her  neat 
waist  and  skirt  which  bespoke  the  care  she  gave  to  her 
appearance. 

"You  know  she's  a  Jew,"  she  continued  as  Hardwick 
said  nothing. 

"I  imagined  so,"  he  answered.  "Has  she  been  here 
long?" 

"Ever  so  long.  Four  or  five  years,  I  guess." 

"You  say  she's  'high  and  mighty.'  What  do  you 
mean?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  She  never  has  a  word  to  say  to 
any  of  us  outside  of  business.  She  acts  just  as  though  we 
were  dirt,  not  fit  to  associate  with  her.  Of  course,  she's 
been  here  longer  than  most  of  the  rest  of  us,  and  the 
boss  is  crazy  about  her — " 

Hardwick  interrupted.  He  was  intensely  interested. 

"The  boss!  Whom  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Pemberton,  of  course,"  she  answered  with 
a  smile.  She  was  delighted  to  find  him  so  much  inter 
ested.  His  evident  amazement  was  most  pleasant  to  her. 

"You  surprise  me,"  he  said,  "aren't  you  mistaken? 
Mr.  Pemberton  seems  interested  only  in  business.  You 
must  be  mistaken." 

"No,  I'm  not.  I  guess  I've  got  eyes." 

"And  an  imagination,  too,  I  take  it." 

His  words  had  exactly  their  intended  effect.  They 
spurred  her  on  to  give  proof. 

"Imagination  nothing,"  she  said.  "It's  Miss  Bern- 


50  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

stein  here  and  Miss  Bernstein  there  with  him.  Nobody 
else  can  do  anything  right  but  Ruth  Bernstein,  Humph!" 

"Is  her  name  Ruth?"  queried  Hardwick. 

"Yes;  Ruth  Bernstein.  Have  you  never  noticed  the 
way  he  looks  at  her?  It's  a  regular  give-away.  If  a  man 
looked  at  me  like  that,  I'd  have  visions  of  a  solitaire." 
She  got  up  from  her  chair,  triumphant.  She  knew  that 
she  had  incited  real  interest  and  it  was  balm  to  her 
spirit. 

"If  you're  through,"  she  said,  "  I  suppose  I  may  go  to 
my  lunch." 

"Yes,  thank  you,  quite  through." 

He  sat  at  his  desk  for  a  while  after  she  had  left,  pon 
dering  over  what  she  had  said.  Could  it  be  true  that 
Pemberton  was  interested  to  this  extent  in  Miss  Bern 
stein?  It  did  not  seem  possible.  He  would  be  the  last  man 
in  the  world  to  mix  affection  and  business.  Affection  and 
Pemberton!  The  two  seemed  utterly  incompatible.  And 
yet,  Hardwick  thought,  the  man  couldn't  be  all  business, 
there  must  be  something  in  his  life  besides  his  grinding 
efficiency.  There  must  be  another  side  as  well,  and  this 
might  be  it.  Still,  it  seemed  completely  foreign,  alto 
gether  removed  from  the  Pemberton  that  he  knew,  the 
business  machine,  all  efficiency. 

Efficiency.  How  he  hated  the  word.  Its  sudden  wide 
spread  use  made  it  sickening  to  him.  The  whole  meaning 
of  it,  as  it  was  generally  taken,  was  opposed  to  his  ideas. 
It  stood  for  something  mechanical,  limited,  unimagina- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  51 

tive.  It  crushed  the  humanity  out  of  mankind.  It  set 
them  to  tasks  as  one  would  start  a  machine,  to  function 
regularly  without  a  break,  without  the  slightest  divaga 
tion,  without  rest,  without  vision.  And  he  saw  Pember- 
ton  as  a  machine,  a  complex  mechanism  driven  steadily 
with  but  one  end  in  view,  untouched,  unimpressed  by 
anything  which  did  not  contribute  to  the  result  he 
sought. 

And  to  think  of  this  machine,  this  business-building 
monster  in  love  with  an  office  girl.  It  was  absurd.  The 
Henderson  girl,  out  of  pique  perhaps,  for  some  silly 
reasons  surely,  had  imagined  this.  She  had  construed 
Pemberton's  lack  of  rudeness  to  a  really  superior  female 
clerk  as  evidence  of  a  most  exceptional  regard  for  her. 
The  whole  thing  was  absurd. 

He  left  his  desk  and  went  to  his  lunch. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ON  Saturday  afternoon,  Hardwick  came  home  at 
about  half  past  three.  It  was  the  first  week  in 
June,  and,  as  he  walked  from  the  car  to  his  house, 
he  noticed  the  roses  hi  bloom  in  a  number  of  the  little 
gardens  fronting  his  neighbors'  houses.  He  was  not  a 
particularly  observant  man,  things  of  this  sort  seldom 
claimed  his  attention.  As  a  rule,  he  was  entirely  engrossed 
in  his  own  thoughts  and  literally  had  to  be  pulled 
out  of  them. 

But  today  he  was  utterly  at  peace  with  the  world. 
At  the  office,  he  had  spent  a  most  satisfactory  morning. 
The  new  advertising  plans  had  occupied  him  from  his 
arrival  until  closing  time,  and  he  had  had  the  joy  of 
feeling  that  his  work  was  good.  Actually,  he  had  dis 
regarded  the  usual  closing  time  and  had  remained  at  his 
desk  until  half  past  two,  perfectly  happy  in  his  complete 
absorption  in  his  task.  When  he  was  finally  through  with 
it,  he  had  enjoyed  a  leisurely  lunch  and  had  then  taken 
the  trolley  to  go  home. 

The  gaiety  of  the  roses  fitted  exactly  into  his  mood. 
He  felt,  vaguely,  of  course,  that  they  were  a  symbol  of 
his  success,  that  they  offered  a  promise  of  the  fine  career 
that  was  at  last  open  to  him.  And  then  he  smiled  at  his 
own  fancy,  at  the  exuberance  of  spirits  which  made  him 
invent  so  fantastic,  so  whimsical  an  idea. 

52 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  53 

He  entered  the  oppressive  hall  of  his  home  without 
any  sense  either  of  its  overburdened  furnishing  or  its 
usual  disorder.  He  was  accustomed  to  it  just  as  anyone 
is  used  to  a  peculiarity  of  his  own  countenance.  He 
whistled  as  he  closed  the  door  as  a  signal  of  his  arrival. 

An  answering  whistle  from  Marian  was  followed 
almost  immediately  by  the  appearance  of  the  girl  her 
self,  running  down  the  stairs  at  break-neck  speed  to 
throw  her  arms  around  her  father's  neck. 

"How  are  you,  pops?"  she  cried,  between  kisses. 

"Fine,  Mamie,"  he  answered.  "Where's  mother?" 

"Upstairs.  Allie's  out." 

They  went  upstairs  together  to  a  small  room,  the 
name  of  which  indicated  that  it  was  intended  to  be  used 
for  sewing.  Indeed,  there  was  a  machine  in  one  corner 
but  the  dust  upon  it  justified  the  belief  that  it  had  not 
been  in  operation  for  quite  a  long  time.  The  appearance 
of  the  room,  moreover,  was  proof  positive  that  its 
principal  use  was  for  storage,  for  the  lines  of  hooks  upon 
the  walls  were  filled  with  all  sorts  of  wearing  apparel 
flung  together  in  great  disorder. 

At  a  small  table  by  the  window,  Mrs.  Hardwick  was 
seated,  writing.  About  a  dozen  sheets  had  already  been 
filled  and  she  was  half  through  another.  As  Hardwick 
and  Marian  entered,  she  turned,  pen  in  hand,  and  greeted 
him. 

"  How  are  you,  Henry,  my  dear?  "  she  said  in  her  usual 
unctuous  tone. 


54  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Splendid,"  he  said,  as  he  kissed  her.  "Isn't  it  a 
beautiful  day?" 

"Isn't  it?"  she  said  in  confirmation. 

"What  are  you  writing?"  he  asked. 

"Just  a  little  study  of  Fielding's  work.  It's  the  first 
chance  I've  had  to  get  at  it  and  I've  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  little  I've  been  able  to  do.  It's  really  most  fascinat 
ing.  It  is  my  purpose  to  show  the  complete  modernity 
of  Fielding's  point  of  view,  his  realism.  I  believe  that 
work  of  this  character  will  undoubtedly  open  the  minds 
of  many  people  to  a  whole  great  literature  which  is 
neglected  by  them,  simply  because  they  feel  that  it  is 
utterly  out-of-date."  She  paused. 

"No  doubt,"  said  her  husband,  although  he  was  more 
than  doubtful.  "Where's  Allie?" 

"She  went  over  to  see  Mary  Frothingham.  She'll  be 
back  in  time  for  dinner,"  answered  Mrs.  Hardwick, 
turning  back  to  her  work.  Her  husband  had  already 
left  the  room  when  she  called  to  him. 

"  Oh,  Henry!  There's  a  letter  for  you  on  the  chiffonier." 

"What  is  it?" 

"It's  from  Maguire.  He  wants  his  bill  paid.  The  letter 
is  quite  insolent." 

All  of  Hardwick's  peace  of  mind  vanished.  This  bill, 
already  three  months  overdue,  brought  a  swift  recollec 
tion  of  many  others,  likewise  unpaid,  whose  total 
reached  a  figure,  for  him,  quite  staggering. 

He  came  back  into  the  room  and  sat  down.  He  felt 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  55 

helpless,  oppressed  by  the  sense  of  a  great  load.  How 
much  did  he  owe?  Would  he  ever  be  able  to  liquidate 
the  debts  which  he  felt  were  crushing  him?  Mechani 
cally,  he  began  to  count  them  and  each  one  that  he 
added  suggested  others.  His  mind  was  confused,  a  sort 
of  dull  desperation  seized  him.  They  must  economize, 
he  thought,  they  must  get  some  money  somewhere. 

"Listen,  Florrie,"  he  said  at  length  as  his  wife  went 
on  writing  placidly,  but  with  an  indescribable  mannerism 
which  seemed  to  convey  the  information  that  this  was 
the  work  of  a  superior  intelligence.  Whenever  Mrs. 
Hardwick  entered  the  domain  of  her  own  intellectuality, 
she  was  a  different  woman,  she  was  conscious  to  the 
finger  tips  and  every  part  of  her  shouted  "Behold!" 

She  turned  to  him  at  the  sound  of  her  name. 

"What  is  it,  my  dear?"  she  asked,  indulgently,  as 
though  it  was  a  great  concession  on  her  part  not  to  resent 
an  interruption  while  she  was  engaged  on  work  of  such 
importance.  (£• 

"  I  want  to  talk  over  our  affairs.  This  bill  of  Maguire's 
— "  He  paused,  not  knowing  which  other  to  name  first. 

"  How  about  all  the  other  bills?  "  she  asked.  There  was 
a  slight  note  of  scorn  in  her  voice  which  portended  a 
coming  storm. 

"It's  just  those  other  bills  I  want  to  talk  about.  We'll 
have  to  take  some  steps  to  pay  them." 

"What  do  you  suppose  induces  me  to  write  these 
articles?"  she  said.  "I'm  trying  to  do  my  share." 


56  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  know  that  and  I  appreciate  it,"  he  said  earnestly, 
"but  we  must  do  more.  Can't  we  economize  in  some 
way?" 

"Economize!"  she  exclaimed.  "Have  we  ever  done 
anything  but  economize?  I  haven't  a  single  gown  that  is 
fit  to  be  seen.  Not  that  it  makes  any  difference  to  me." 
Here  she  uttered  that  cackle  of  forced  laughter  which 
drove  him  nearly  frantic. 

She  went  on:  "And  the  girls!  Alice  is  of  an  age  at 
which  her  dress  is  a  matter  of  importance  if  she  is  to 
move  among  the  right  sort  of  people.  Marian  is  only  a 
child,  it  is  true,  but  even  she  is  literally  in  rags.  Econo 
mize!"  She  paused  for  breath. 

"My  clothes  are  all  right,"  put  in  Marian,  who  had 
been  standing  by  the  door,  an  interested  listener. 

Neither  of  her  parents  paid  any  attention  to  her 
remark.  Hardwick  would  have  liked  to  save  her  from 
hearing  this  discussion,  but  felt  too  weak,  too  much  at 
a  loss  to  be  able  to  ask  her  to  go  away  or  to  postpone 
further  talk  on  the  subject. 

"How  do  other  people  get  along?"  he  asked  bitterly. 
"There's  Sedgely,  he  doesn't  make  a  cent  over  twenty- 
five  hundred,  and  he's  always  flush.  And  Briggs,  I'm 
sure  he  makes  no  more  than  that  and  you  know  how  well 
they  appear  to  get  along." 

"I  suppose  I'm  to  understand  from  that  that  I'm 
extravagant;  that  I  waste  the  princely  allowance  which 
you  make  to  me."  Her  manner  was  icy,  but  her  heat 
was  evident. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  57 

"Not  at  all,  Florrie.  Don't  put  it  on  that  ground. 
Let's  talk  this  over  calmly." 

"Calmly,"  she  cried.  "Could  anybody  be  more  calm 
than  I  under  such  provocation?  For  the  last  ten  years 
I've  put  up  with  insufficient  funds  to  run  the  house;  I've 
economized  in  every  way;  I've  never  considered  myself 
and,  at  every  turn,  I  am  accused  of  extravagance,  of 
squandering  the  pittance  which  you  give  me." 

"Please,  Florrie,"  he  pleaded.  "We'll  never  get  any 
where  on  that  ground.  I  know  you're  not  extravagant; 
that  you  do  the  best  you  can.  But  what  I  want  to  discuss 
is  whether  there  isn't  something  we  can  cut  out.  It  won't 
be  for  long." 

"Does  it  never  occur  to  you  that  you  might  earn  a 
little  more?  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  you, 
but  other  men  of  your  years  and  experience,  with  no 
more  brains  than  you  have,  earn  twice  or  three  times  as 
much  as  you  do."  Her  tone  was  biting.  He  lost  patience. 

"I  do  the  best  I  can.  I  give  you  every  cent  that  isn't 
absolutely  necessary  to  me.  I  smoke  a  pipe.  I  buy  cheap 
clothes,  we  never  go  anywhere.  Almost  all  of  my  money 
goes  to  you  and  any  saving  that  we  can  make  must  come 
out  of  our  living  expenses  and  we  must  cut  them  down 
somehow." 

"Perhaps  you'll  show  me,"  she  said  with  scorn.  "I 
know  I  never  miss  an  opportunity  to  save.  I  bought  that 
washing  machine  to  save  the  pay  of  a  laundress — " 

"Yes,"  he  interrupted,  thoroughly  angry  now,  "you 


58  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

paid  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  that  washing 
machine  and  you  have  the  laundress  besides.  You  save 
at  the  spigot  and  waste  at  the  bung." 

"Of  course  I'm  in  the  wrong,"  cried  Mrs.  Hard  wick. 
"I — I — "she  was  at  a  loss  for  a  moment  what  to  say  next, 
so  she  resorted  to  her  cackle.  But  it  was  no  longer  of  the 
same  pitch  as  before;  it  was  higher  now  and  more 
piercing.  "I've  always  been  in  the  wrong;  I've  always 
wasted  your  substance;  I've  slaved;  I've  worked  like  a 
dog — Why,"  she  said,  as  a  sudden  thought  struck  her, 
"we're  even  living  in  my  house,  the  house  that  was 
bought  with  the  money  that  came  from  my  parents — " 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  angrily,  "your  house,  if  the  equity 
hi  it  is  worth  considering  as  property.  By  the  way,"  he 
added,  "did  you  pay  the  mortgage  interest?" 

"No,"  she  answered,  "you  didn't  give  it  to  me." 

"You  know  your  allowance  is  supposed  to  take  care  of 
that.  We  arranged  that  at  the  beginning."  He  felt 
utterly  outraged.  This  was  the  last  straw. 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  I'm  to  pay  mortgage  interest 
out  of  what  you  give  me.  It's  scarcely  enough  to  pay 
grocers'  bills." 

He  made  no  answer  but  sat  moodily  silent.  Not  so  she. 

"You  had  an  opportunity  to  take  the  position  my 
Uncle  James  obtained  for  you  at  five  thousand  dollars 
and  you  let  a  mere  underling  engage  you  for  thirty-five 
hundred.  Perhaps  you  do  not  consider  that  extrava 
gance.  Perhaps  you  would  call  it  generosity." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  59 

Hardwick  could  stand  no  more.  He  left  the  room,  fol 
lowed  by  Marian,  and  went  into  his  bedroom.  He  seated 
himself  in  the  armchair,  utterly  dejected.  His  anger 
was  almost  lost  in  a  feeling  of  complete  defeat,  but,  from 
time  to  time,  it  regained  control  of  him.  He  felt  that  his 
wife  did  not  use  him  fairly,  that  she  was  indifferent  in 
matters  of  essential  economy.  The  washing  machine  was 
a  fair  sample,  all  over  the  house  were  evidences  of  mis 
management  of  the  sort.  The  money  went  and  they  had 
nothing  for  it. 

Marian  had  followed  him  into  the  room  without  his 
observing  her  entrance.  She  watched  him  for  a  moment, 
sympathizing  in  his  evident  distress,  and  then  went  over 
to  him,  sat  on  the  side  of  his  chair  and  put  her  arm 
around  his  neck. 

An  immense  surge  of  love  engulfed  him.  No  word  could 
have  done  for  him  what  this  simple  mark  of  affection 
brought.  Ah!  She  was  his,  she  loved  him  without  thought, 
without  calculation,  just  because  she  loved  him.  He 
smiled  at  her  and  took  her  other  hand. 

"Let's  go  for  a  walk,  pops,"  she  said.  "It's  a  lovely 
day." 

"No,  dear,"  he  answered,  affectionately,  "I  don't  feel 
like  walking.  Besides,  I've  some  things  to  think  about." 

"Oh!  Please  come.  It'll  do  you  good.  And  it  won't  do 
you  a  bit  of  good  to  sit  there  thinking  of  those  nasty, 
horrid  things.  Please."  She  looked  at  him  appealingly. 
He  could  not  refuse. 


60  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "get  ready." 

"Fine,"  she  cried  as  she  got  up  after  kissing  him. 
"Mother!"  she  cried,  "pops  and  I  are  going  out  for  a 
walk." 

She  did  not  wait  for  an  answer  but  ran  downstairs 
followed  by  her  father.  They  were  on  the  street  almost 
immediately. 

For  some  time,  Hardwick  walked  along  with  Marian, 
without  saying  a  word  except  an  occasional  "yes"  or 
"no"  in  answer  to  her  prattle.  They  went  towards  the 
open  country  which  began  about  a  half  mile  from  their 
house. 

By  the  time  this  distance  had  been  covered,  he  felt 
distinctly  better.  In  fact,  he  found,  to  his  amazement, 
that  he  was  actually  enjoying  himself.  He  could  think 
about  his  debts  another  time.  There  was  nothing  new  in 
the  condition  of  debtor  for  him  and  he  wondered  why  he 
had  been  silly  enough  to  let  it  depress  him. 

"Look,"  he  said,  suddenly  interrupting  her  account 
of  the  stupidity  of  one  of  her  teachers,  "look  at  that 
flock  of  birds  there.  I  suppose  they're  migrating.  I 
wonder  what  they  are." 

"Warblers,"  promptly  answered  Marian.  "Aren't 
their  colors  wonderful?" 

They  stood  still  for  a  moment  looking  at  them  until 
the  birds  had  gone.  Then  they  resumed  their  walk  in 
silence.  Presently  Marian  said: 

"How  old  was  mother  when  you  first  knew  her?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  61 

"About  twenty,"  he  answered. 

"What  was  she  like  then?" 

"How  do  you  mean?  How  did  she  look?' 

"Yes,  how  did  she  look?" 

He  thought  for  a  moment.  "It's  pretty  hard  to  de 
scribe  how  anyone  looks  at  any  time,  but  twenty  years 
ago — that's  a  long  time." 

"Was  she  very  pretty?" 

"I  thought  she  was  beautiful.  She  looked  something 
like  Allie  does  now.  If  anything,  she  was  better  looking. 
But  I  don't  really  know  how  she  looked,  I  only  know 
how  I  thought  she  looked.  You've  seen  the  photograph 
of  her  in  her  wedding  dress." 

"Yes,  I  know.  I  guess  I  didn't  mean  that  I  wanted 
to  know  how  she  looked  to  other  people,  but  how  she 
looked  to  you." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  was  a  young  man  and  in  love,  so  she 
had  to  look  beautiful  to  me." 

"Were  you  terribly  in  love?"  asked  Marian  with  the 
greatest  interest. 

"I  suppose  so.  It's  been  a  long  time  since  then." 

"Oh!  Please  tell  me  about  it,"  she  cried. 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell.  I  was  a  newspaper  reporter 
then.  I  met  her  one  evening  after  the  theatre;  there  was 
a  little  party  of  us  that  went  to  one  of  the  girls'  houses, 
I  don't  remember  which.  Mother  and  I  got  to  talking 
and  we  found  each  other  very  interesting.  She  asked  me 
to  call  on  her  and  I  lost  no  time  in  doing  it.  After  that, 
it  was  the  usual  story."  He  paused. 


62  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Tell  It  to  me,"  she  said. 

"Well,  after  I'd  been  calling  on  her  a  few  months,  we 
were  engaged  and  in  about  a  year  we  were  married." 

"Tell  me  how  you  were  engaged." 

"I  don't  remember  exactly.  It  seems  we  just  fell  into 
it.  Some  time  or  other  I  must  have  spoken  to  her  telling 
her  how  I  felt,  but  I  don't  remember  just  how  it  came 
about.  You  see,  there  wasn't  anything  sudden  about  it." 

"Was  she  very  sweet?" 

"I  thought  she  was."  He  paused  for  a  moment  and 
looked  up  at  the  sky  as  though  he  was  trying  to  revisual- 
ize  the  past.  "Yes,  she  was,"  he  added  with  conviction. 

"Tell  me  about  her,"  said  Marian  earnestly. 

There  was  no  doubt  of  her  intense  interest. 

"Well,  you  know  she  was  an  only  child,  and  her 
parents  did  everything  they  could  to  spoil  her.  I  didn't 
know  anything  about  it  at  the  time,  of  course.  I  thought 
they  were  very  rich  and  I  guess  almost  everybody  else 
did,  too.  They  lived  very  well  and  mother  was  brought 
up  in  what  was  considered  luxury  in  those  days.  And 
when  your  grandfather  died  and  we  found  out  that 
he  hadn't  a  cent  but  was  heavily  in  debt,  nobody  was 
more  surprised  than  mother.  You  see,  she  had  always 
imagined  that  her  folks  had  a  lot  of  money.  Maybe  they 
did  have  once,  but  it  must  have  been  long  before  I  knew 
them.  Mother  always  was  used  to  having  servants  wait 
on  her  and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"But  it  didn't  spoil  her,  did  it?"  asked  Marian  as  he 
paused. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  63 

"No,"  he  answered  slowly,  "I  don't  think  so.  When 
we  were  first  married,  I  used  to  wonder  at  her  getting 
along  so  well  on  the  small  salary  I  made.  But  she  did  it, 
all  right." 

"Was  she  always  so  smart?"  inquired  Marian. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Oh!  Could  she  always  talk  so — so  beautiful?" 

"Beautifully,  do  you  mean?" 

"Yes,  beautifully,"  answered  Marian,  accepting  the 
correction. 

"She  always  had  the  'gift  of  the  gab/  as  they  say. 
That  was  one  of  the  things  about  her  that  struck  me  at 
the  time.  She  talked  so  much  better  than  anyone, 
certainly  any  girl  I  had  ever  met." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  as  they  walked  on,  and  then 
he  turned  to  Marian  suddenly  and  asked: 

"Say,  what's  making  you  ask  all  of  these  questions?" 

"Oh!  I  don't  know.  I  was  just  thinking." 

Hardwick  saw  what  was  in  the  child's  mind  and  did 
not  press  his  question.  They  walked  along  in  silence  for 
a  few  minutes. 

"You  have  an  awful  hard  time,  don't  you?"  Marian 
said  at  length. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  he  replied.  "  I'm  really  very  happy 
most  of  the  time,  particularly  when  I  think  of  what  a  fine 
family  I  have,  all  except  my  younger  daughter."  He 
smiled  at  her. 

"You're  a  mean  old  thing,"  she  said,  taking  his  arm 
and  pressing  it  tightly. 


CHAPTER  VII 

JAMES  KNOWLTON  HUGHES  was  a  favorite  of 
fortune.  In  his  case  there  was  no  evidence  of  the 
fickleness  which  is  usually  ascribed  to  this  much 
abused  jade.  From  his  earliest  youth,  she  had  showered 
upon  him  every  material  benefit,  while  he,  with  custom 
ary  human  obliquity,  had  ascribed  his  success  to  his  own 
ability.  He  considered  himself  entirely  self-made. 

The  quality  of  acquisitiveness  was  an  overmastering 
character  in  James  Knowlton  Hughes.  He  had  wanted 
wealth  always  more  than  he  had  wanted  anything  else. 
It  was  as  natural  for  him  to  seek  the  golden  source  as  it 
is  for  a  Helianthus  to  turn  its  face  to  the  sun. 

Coupled  with  this  quality  in  him  was  another  which 
acted  as  its  fitting  helpmeet.  He  not  only  acquired 
wealth  as  a  natural  function,  he  retained  it.  Giving  in  his 
case  was  physically  painful,  and  refusal  of  favors  cost 
him  no  great  effort.  It  is  doubtful  whether  he  enjoyed 
the  sensation  of  wealth  or  merely  followed  an  instinct  in 
its  piling  up,  which  was  as  natural  and  no  more  enjoy 
able  than  breathing. 

His  life  may  be  told  in  a  few  words.  He  was  always 
lucky.  Whenever  there  was  some  material  benefit  to  be 
dispensed,  circumstances  placed  him  directly  in  the 
way  of  it.  He  had  risen  from  employee  to  employer; 
he  had  outgrown  his  original  business  until  now,  at 

64 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  65 

nearly  sixty,  he  was  interested  in  many  enterprises  in 
which  he  had  had  no  hand  in  the  upbuilding,  but  which 
had  sought  either  his  means  or  the  prestige  of  success 
which  had  become  attached  to  his  name.  It  was  the 
latter,  as  well  as  a  substantial  investment  in  the  stock 
of  the  corporation,  which  had  procured  him  the  election 
to  the  presidency  of  the  Prescott  Company  on  the 
death  of  its  founder,  William  H.  Prescott.  Hughes  had 
been  one  of  the  directors  for  several  years. 

Whatever  the  answer  to  the  query  as  to  his  enjoy 
ment  of  his  wealth,  there  was  no  possible  doubt  as  to 
his  great  joy  in  one  of  his  few  interests  outside  of  money- 
getting.  He  was  ardent  as  a  church-goer.  A  member  of 
St.  Luke's  Episcopal  Church,  one  of  the  most  fashionable 
in  the  city,  he  devoted  much  time  to  its  affairs  and 
never  willingly  missed  attending  the  services.  At  present 
he  was  serving  the  government  in  Washington  on  one  of 
the  committees  of  prominent  business  men  who  had 
been  called  to  lend  expert  service  hi  the  commercial 
aspect  of  war  work,  and  yet  he  made  the  trip  from 
Washington  every  Saturday  evening  to  his  own  city, 
a  matter  of  several  hours,  in  order  that  he  might  spend 
Sunday  according  to  the  custom  of  years. 

To  St.  Luke's,  on  the  Sunday  following  Marian's 
walk  with  her  father,  Mrs.  Hardwick,  accompanied  by 
Alice,  came  with  the  express  purpose  of  seeing  her 
uncle.  She  was  not  regular  in  her  attendance,  but  went 
from  time  to  time,  as  the  mood  seized  her.  Hardwick, 


66  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

therefore,  attached  no  importance  to  her  going  on  this 
particular  Sunday. 

He  was  wrong.  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  determined  to 
speak  to  her  uncle  about  what  she  considered  the 
interference  of  Pemberton  with  Hughes'  plans.  The 
latter  had  not  promised  her  that  Hardwick  would 
receive  any  definite  salary,  he  had  merely  remarked 
that  McNair  had  received  five  thousand  dollars.  But 
to  Mrs.  Hardwick  this  was  a  promise,  nay,  a  contract, 
to  pay  her  husband  the  same  figure. 

Directly  the  services  were  over,  she  put  herself  in 
her  uncle's  way.  He  had  not  seen  her  in  the  church,  and 
was  really  somewhat  surprised  to  find  her  awaiting  him 
at  the  entrance.  She  greeted  him  effusively: 

"How  well  you  are  looking,  dear  Uncle,"  she  said 
with  her  usual  cackle,  intended  this  time  to  indicate 
her  joy  in  his  appearance  of  health.  "Washington  and 
hard  work  evidently  agree  with  you." 

"I'm  feeling  all  right,"  he  answered.  "Hard  work 
agrees  with  everyone.  How  are  you,  Marian?"  he  asked, 
addressing  Alice,  whom  he  noticed  for  the  first  time. 

"Very  well,  uncle,"  she  answered.  "Only  I'm  not 
Marian,  I'm  Alice."  A  little  simpering  giggle  accom 
panied  this,  with  the  intention  of  putting  him  at  ease 
after  his  blunder. 

"To  be  sure,"  he  said,  "to  be  sure.  I  really  know 
better.  Surely  you  are  Alice.  How  are  Marian  and 
Harry?"  he  asked,  turning  to  his  niece. 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  67 

"Both  are  very  well,"  she  replied,  "and  how  is  dear 
Aunt  Agnes?" 

"Poorly.  She  seems  to  make  no  progress  at  all.  The 
least  effort  tires  her.  Dr.  Hayward  is  doing  everything 
he  can  and  we  are  hopeful  for  the  best,  but  it's  a  slow 
business."  He  shook  his  head  gravely. 

"Alice  and  I  will  walk  along  with  you  to  see  her, 
if  you  think  she  will  be  able  to  receive  us." 

Hughes  did  not  know  how  to  avoid  this  visit,  although 
he  did  not  want  it.  He  was  not  fond  of  his  niece.  She 
distinctly  repelled  him,  he  was  always  uncomfortable  in 
her  presence. 

After  a  few  words  with  some  of  the  congregation, 
they  started.  Mrs.  Hardwick  did  most  of  the  talking, 
devoting  herself  to  subjects  which  she  felt  would  interest 
her  uncle,  and  assuming  the  attitude  in  each  case  that 
she  believed  would  win  his  approval.  When  they  were 
half  through  their  journey,  she  felt  the  ground  had  been 
sufficiently  prepared  and  ventured  into  the  subject 
which  lay  nearest  her  heart  at  the  moment./ 

"Uncle  James,"  she  said  with  even  greater  unction 
than  usual,  "I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  dear  Henry. 
You  know  his  great  fault  has  always  been  that  he  does 
not  push  himself  sufficiently.  He  has  missed  innumer 
able  opportunities  of  self -betterment  merely  through  an 
ingrained  diffidence.  You  know  this  very  well,  for  I 
have  frequently  spoken  of  it  to  you." 

She  paused,  awaiting  some  sign  of  approval  or  inter- 


68  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

est.  But  none  came.  Hughes  was  wearing  a  mask  of 
stolidity  which  came  upon  him  naturally  whenever  he 
sensed  the  approach  of  a  request  of  any  kind.  Many  a 
supplicant  had  lost  courage  in  preferring  a  claim  for 
his  services  merely  upon  sight  of  this  expression  of 
impenetrability.  But  Mrs.  Hardwick  knew  it  well,  and 
knew  further  that,  behind  it,  lay  only  the  final  impreg 
nable  rampart  which  defended  the  treasure  chest.  In 
the  interval,  once  the  primary  defense  was  overthrown, 
she  knew  that  patience  on  her  part  would  be  rewarded. 
So  she  went  on: 

"It  was  most  lovely  and  thoughtful  of  you,  dear 
Uncle  James,  to  give  Henry  his  position  with  your 
Company.  None  of  us,  I  am  sure,  can  ever  be  sufficiently 
grateful  to  you.  However,  it  was  what  might  have 
been  expected  of  you  by  anyone  who  knew  your  good 
ness,  and  I  surely  am  one." 

Hughes  listened.  From  anyone  else,  he  might  have 
enjoyed  this  obvious  flattery.  From  her,  it  annoyed 
him,  but  he  was  powerless;  he  was  compelled  to  listen. 
Mrs.  Hardwick  paid  no  further  attention  to  the  manner 
of  his  reception  of  her  words  and  went  on  towards  her 
objective.  Hughes  had  an  idea  that  he  might  be  able 
to  postpone  the  discussion  of  the  matter  by  a  reference 
to  the  impropriety  of  considering  it  on  Sunday,  but  he 
felt  that  his  niece  knew  him  too  well  for  this.  His  enjoy 
ment  of  church  had  never  been  allowed  to  interfere 
with  business  on  any  day  of  the  week. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  69 

"You  know,"  she  continued,  "Henry  went  to  see  a 
Mr.  Pemberton  and  arranged  the  details  of  his  going 
with  the  Company  with  him.  He's  the  general  manager, 
I  believe.  You  can  imagine  my  surprise,  my  utter 
amazement,  when  Henry  came  home  to  me  and  an 
nounced  that  he  had  been  compelled  by  this  Pemberton 
to  accept  the  position  at  the  niggardly  salary  of  thirty- 
five  hundred  dollars  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  you  had 
promised  me  that  he  would  receive  five  thousand — " 

"I  made  no  promise,"  interrupted  Hughes,  "I  said 
only—" 

Mrs.  Hardwick  completely  disregarded  this  inter 
ruption  except  for  a  very  slight  raising  of  her  voice  as 
she  went  on. 

"Your  well-known  sense  of  justice  is  not  likely  to 
permit  you  to  put  up  with  such  disregard  of  your 
instructions.  I  know  that  your  generosity  leads  you  to 
believe  others  to  be  actuated  by  the  same  motive,  but, 
in  this  case,  unfortunately,  it  is  not  true.  You  told  me 
that  Mr.  McNair  received  a  salary  of  five  thousand 
dollars  and  that  you  would  recommend  Henry  for  the 
position.  Coming  from  your  lips,  this  was  tantamount 
to  the  most  carefully  drawn  contract.  I  knew  at  once 
that  you  intended  that  Henry  should  receive  at  least 
five  thousand  dollars  and  rejoiced  accordingly. 

"But  what  do  Henry's  diffidence  and  Mr.  Pem- 
berton's  illiberality  do  to  your  generous  plans  but 
completely  upset  them.  Directly  Henry  announced  the 


70  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

issue  of  his  conversation  with  this  Pemberton,  I  deter 
mined  to  speak  of  the  matter  to  you,  feeling  that  it 
was  due  you  to  give  you  the  opportunity  to  right  a 
wrong  which  had  been  committed  by  one  of  your 
subordinates  In  defiance  of  your  instructions.  But  poor, 
self-effacing  Henry  did  not  wish  me  to  trouble  you, 
little  recognizing  the  rugged  sense  of  justice  which  is 
your  strongest  characteristic.  In  order  to  pacify  him, 
I  did  not  reiterate  my  intention  to  lay  the  matter  before 
you,  and  it  therefore  dropped  from  his  mind  and  it  is 
without  his  knowledge  that  I  am  upon  this  errand  this 
morning." 

Hughes  was  becoming  uncomfortable.  From  previous 
experience  with  his  niece,  he  knew  there  was  no  silencing 
her  except  by  an  agreement  to  do  as  she  wished.  A 
refusal  would  but  prolong  the  exordium.  She  would 
seize  upon  some  word  or  other  and  make  it  the  basis 
for  a  new  attack. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  his  house  and  had 
seated  themselves  on  the  porch.  There  was  no  longer 
any  importance  attaching  to  the  visit  to  his  wife. 
Although  they  kept  up  the  appearance  of  avuncular 
and  niecely  affection,  the  mask  was  actually  off.  It  was 
a  clear  case  of  endurance,  and,  while  Hughes  maintained 
the  seeming  of  resistance,  he  knew  that  he  was  beaten. 

"I  know  how  you  feel  towards  us,"  she  continued, 
"you  have  never  missed  an  opportunity  to  do  us  a 
kindness  or  to  be  of  service  to  us,  and  so  I  ask  that  you 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  71 

rectify  this  mistake  with  full  confidence  that  you  will 
hasten  to  do  so." 

Hughes  raised  his  hand  in  a  deprecating  gesture,  but 
Mrs.  Hardwick  went  right  on.  She  had  been  through 
this  sort  of  experience  with  him  before  and  knew  that 
her  attack  must  not  cease  until  there  was  no  longer  any 
spirit  of  protest  left  in  him. 

"Of  course,  I  recognize  that  you  must  feel  a  certain 
delicacy  with  regard  to  interfering  with  the  work  of 
your  subordinates,  and  it  is  but  a  mark  of  your  fineness 
of  feeling.  If  it  were  not  a  case  in  which  a  manifest 
injustice  was  being  done,  irrespective  of  the  fact  that 
the  sufferers  thereby  are  your  own  flesh  and  blood,  it 
might  be  very  well  to  hold  your  hand.  But,  in  this 
instance,  I  know  that  all  that  is  needed  is  to  inform  you 
of  the  fact;  your  sense  of  justice  will  do  the  rest." 

"See  here!  Florrie,"  interrupted  Hughes,  rather 
weakly,  it  is  true,  "I  didn't  promise  Harry  any  partic 
ular  salary.  I  only — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  calmly  interrupted  his  niece,  "you 
did  not  make  a  definite  promise.  You  did  not  say '  Henry, 
I  engage  you  as  our  advertising  manager  at  five  thou 
sand  dollars  a  year.'  That  was  not  necessary.  You  did  not 
say  in  express  terms  that  you  engaged  him  at  any  defi 
nite  salary.  You  were  held  back  from  so  crude  a  state 
ment,  I  am  sure,  by  considerations  of  delicacy  which  do 
you  great  credit.  You  merely  told  us  that  you  would 
recommend  him  for  the  position  which  paid  its  previous 


72  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

incumbent  five  thousand  dollars.  Your  intention  was 
obvious,  there  was  no  occasion  to  go  into  further  details 
with  us.  We  knew  you,  we  were  well  aware  that  a  hint 
from  you  was  stronger  than  a  bond  from  anyone  else. 
Secure  in  the  hope — " 

"Say,  Florrie,"  he  said,  "one  minute.  Just  what  do 
you  want  me  to  do?" 

She  saw  she  had  won  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
she  restrained  her  joy.  Until  she  had  his  definite  promise, 
however,  she  must  maintain  her  attitude  of  attack.  In 
the  same  manner  as  before,  therefore,  she  went  on: 

"I  want  you  to  do  only  what  your  sense  of  fairness 
will  show  is  the  proper  step.  It  is  not  for  me  to  suggest 
what  means  you  are  to  employ  to  exercise  your  author 
ity  over  your  subordinates.  You  will,  of  course,  tell  him 
that  you  had  given  Henry  to  understand  that  he  was  to 
have  the  position  at  five  thousand  dollars  and  that,  in 
view  of  the  circumstances,  your  promise  must  be  carried 
out.  I  am  quite  sure  that  you  will — " 

"All  right,"  said  Hughes  with  resignation,  "I'll  speak 
to  Pemberton  about  it  this  afternoon,  but  I  can't 
promise  that  it  will  have  any — " 

Mrs.  Hardwick  broke  in  here.  She  did  not  want  that 
sentence  finished  by  him;  she  finished  it. 

"Of  course  not,  dear  Uncle.  Of  course  you  cannot 
promise  that  it  will  please  him  to  have  his  decision, 
wrongful  as  it  is,  set  aside.  But,  it  appears  to  me,  that 
is  not  necessary.  Now  that  I  have  your  definite  promise 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  78 

to  have  Henry's  salary  made  what  you  gave  us  to 
understand  it  would  be  in  the  beginning,  now  that  the 
five  thousand  dollars  is  actually  to  be  paid,  I  cannot  see 
that  it  would  be  other  than  captious  on  my  part  to  ask 
anything  further.  Thank  you  ever  so  much,  dear  Uncle 
James,  and  now  that  our  little  understanding  is  quite 
complete,  let  us  go  to  Aunt  Agnes." 

Twenty  minutes  later,  as  he  heard  the  door  close 
behind  her  and  Alice,  he  turned  to  his  wife  with  the 
remark,  "I'm  sorry  for  Harry  Hardwick.  That  woman's 
a  tartar  even  if  she  is  my  sister's  child." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FLUSHED  with  victory,  Mrs.  Hardwick,  accom 
panied  by  Alice,  wended  her  way  to  the  trolley 
which  was  to  take  them  home.  She  was  so  much 
pleased  with  herself  that  her  usual  air  of  benevolence  was 
immensely  magnified.  Actually  she  radiated  good  will. 
Any  slight  qualm  of  conscience  which  might  have 
possessed  her  by  reason  of  her  action  contrary  to  the 
expressed  wish  of  her  husband  was  speedily  lost  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  magnificence  of  her  conquest. 
"Poor  Henry,"  she  thought,  "it's  lucky  that  he  has  a 
wife  with  a  mind  of  her  own;  one  who  is  not  easily  set 
aside;  one  who  vindicates  the  claim  of  her  sex  for  intel 
lectual  equality."  But  self -approbation,  sweet  though 
it  might  be,  was  insufficient.  She  craved  the  applause 
of  the  silent  witness  of  her  prowess,  who  now  walked 
beside  her  without  uttering  a  word. 

"Alice,  my  dear,"  said  her  mother,  "we  have  done  a 
good  morning's  work." 

"Yes,  Mother,"  she  answered,  "father  ought  to  be 
very  happy." 

This  was  not  exactly  what  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  ex 
pected,  but  it  gave  her  an  idea. 

"Yes,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "undoubtedly.  I  want  to 
caution  you,  however,  not  to  mention  to  your  father, 
or,  in  his  hearing,  to  anyone  else,  that  I  approached 

74 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  75 

Uncle  James  on  the  subject  of  your  father's  compensa 
tion.  I  would  much  rather  that  he  receive  his  increase 
of  salary  as  a  surprise,  a  delightful  surprise." 

"Yes,  Mother,"  said  the  dutiful  daughter. 

"Your  Uncle  James,"  continued  Mrs.  Hardwick,  "is  a 
man  who  is  quite  set  in  his  ideas.  He  is  very  difficult  to 
move  from  an  established  position.  I  rather  flatter  my 
self  upon  having  displayed  some  little  adroitness  in  my 
talk  with  him."  She  paused.  Alice  took  the  cue. 

"You  Were  simply  wonderful,  Mother.  I  don't  see  how 
you  were  ever  able  to  stick  to  it  the  way  you  did." 

This  was  better  and  Mrs.  Hardwick  expanded  still 
further.  With  her  cackling  laugh,  now  jubilant  hi  tone, 
she  proceeded: 

"When  there  is  work  to  be  done,  I  do  not  falter;  I  am 
not  easily  set  aside.  Persistence  in  the  face  of  obstacles  is 
the  great  thing.  When  I  know  I  am  right,  nothing  can 
deter  me,  I  go  directly  to  my  goal,  fortified  by  the  cer 
tainty  of  eventual  success."  She  beamed  upon  her 
daughter,  who  attempted  to  appear  much  more  im 
pressed  than  she  really  was.  She  had  seen  much  of  her 
mother's  method  of  persuasion,  and,  inwardly,  had  no 
high  regard  for  it.  Besides,  the  means  to  obtain  her 
mother's  object  had  no  great  concern  for  her,  even  though 
she  could  not  fail  to  be  interested  in  the  result,  since,  in 
her  mind,  her  going  to  college  depended  on  it. 

In  the  car  there  was  no  opportunity  for  further  con 
versation,  and,  during  the  succeeding  short  walk  to 
their  house,  they  spoke  of  other  matters. 


76  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

The  visit  to  Uncle  James'  house  had  made  them 
nearly  an  hour  late  for  their  dinner,  the  quality  of  which 
had  suffered  considerably  from  the  delay.  None  of  the 
family  made  any  comment,  either  upon  Mrs.  Hard- 
wick's  lack  of  punctuality  or  its  result  upon  their  food. 
They  were  used  to  both. 

Hardwick  asked  about  their  morning  and  was  in 
formed  as  to  the  sermon,  of  which  his  wife  had  not 
approved,  and  also  of  their  meeting  with  Uncle  James, 
the  latter,  of  course,  without  any  mention  of  her  having 
waylaid  him. 

"Uncle  James  told  me  how  poorly  Aunt  Agnes  is," 
said  Mrs.  Hardwick,  "and  I  could  not  resist  his  mute 
invitation  that  we  come  to  see  her.  I  spent  only  a  few 
minutes  with  her,  but  I  believe  that  she  was  much 
brighter  when  we  left.  It  is  surely  a  pity  that  so  fine  a 
woman  should  suffer  such  misery  as  she  is  undergoing." 

And  so  on  at  great  length. 

After  dinner,  Hardwick  went  to  his  room  for  his  cus 
tomary  Sunday  afternoon  nap,  while  his  wife  resumed 
her  writing  in  the  sewing-room. 

The  two  girls  went  out  on  the  porch.  It  was  a  delicious 
June  afternoon,  just  warm  enough  to  make  sitting  out 
of  doors  delightful.  The  spring  foliage,  tenderly  green, 
was  eloquent  of  youth.  The  sky  was  almost  cloudless. 

Marian  threw  herself  into  a  swinging  seat  at  one  end 
of  the  porch  while  Alice  sat  demurely  in  a  rocking  chair. 
For  several  minutes  neither  of  them  spoke,  each  busy 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  77 

with  her  own  thoughts.  The  silence  was  broken  by 
Marian. 

"Did  you  see  'him  in  church?"  she  asked  with  an 
emphasis  on  the  word  "him." 

"Whom  do  you  mean?"  asked  Alice  with  a  show  of 
innocence. 

"You  know  all  right.  Was  he  there?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about." 

"Oh!  No!"  said  Marian,  derisively.  "You  don't 
know." 

"No;  I  don't." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you?" 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  do  or  not,  silly,"  answered 
Alice. 

"Well,  if  you  don't  care,  neither  do  I." 

"  I  saw  Uncle  James." 

"I  don't  mean  him.  Mother  told  us  all  about  him." 

"Oh!  Did  she?" 

"Didn't  she?" 

"You're  so  smart  that  I  suppose  you  know  all  about 
it  without  being  told." 

"All  about  what?"  asked  Marian,  now  really  curious. 

"It's  a  secret  anyway,  so  I  won't  tell  you." 

"A  secret,"  cried  Marian,  wildly  curious. 

"Yes;  a  secret." 

"Tell  me." 

"No,  I  daren't  say  anything  about  it.  Mother  told  me 
not  to." 


78  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Pleasetell  me,  "pleaded  Marian,  "Iwon't  breatheit." 

"Nothing  doing,"  answered  Alice,  decisively. 

"Oh!  please  tell  me,  Allie,  I  won't  mention  it  to  any 
body.  Honest,  I  won't." 

"I  guess  you  won't  if  I  don't  tell  you.  So  there." 

"If  you  don't  tell  me,  I'll  tell  mother  where  you  went 
the  day  you  said  you  were  going  over  to  Frothinghams'." 

"You  promised  me  you  wouldn't,"  cried  Alice. 

"I  don't  care.  If  you  don't  tell  me  the  secret,  I'll  tell 
mother." 

"Tell-tale,"  taunted  Alice. 

"I  don't  care.  I'm  going  to  tell  unless  I  hear  the 
secret." 

"Will  you  swear  never  to  breathe  it  to  a  living  soul?" 
asked  Alice. 

"Honest." 

"All  right.  Then  I'll  tell  you.  But  if  you  ever  let  out 
one  word,  I'll  never  tell  you  another  thing." 

"I  promise." 

"Mother  talked  Uncle  James  into  raising  father's 
salary  to  five  thousand  dollars." 

"But  father  asked  her  not  to." 

"I  know,  but  she  did  it  just  the  same.  You  ought  to 
have  heard  the  line  of  talk  she  handed  the  old  boy.  He 
didn't  get  a  chance  to  get  a  word  in  edgewise." 

Marian  was  silent.  She  felt  that  this  was  treachery. 
With  her  Hardwick's  slightest  wish  was  law  and  the 
knowledge  of  her  mother's  action  caused  her  a  sense  of 
great  injury. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  79 

Her  silence  alarmed  Alice,  who  felt  what  was  in  her 
mind. 

"Remember,"  she  said,  "you  promised  not  to  tell." 

"I  know,"  answered  Marian  and  said  no  more.  Alice 
picked  up  a  newspaper  which  was  lying  on  the  porch 
floor  and  began  to  look  through  it,  while  Marian  went 
into  the  house. 

Just  before  the  evening  meal,  Marian  came  out  on  the 
porch  and  sat  down  near  her  father,  who  had  been  there 
alone.  Hardwick  was  in  a  most  jovial  humor  and  showed 
it  plainly  in  bantering  her.  Usually  she  responded  gaily 
to  such  talk,  but  this  evening  she  was  preoccupied  and 
gave  him  only  monosyllabic  answers.  Presently  he 
noticed  her  quiet  humor  and  asked  her  what  was  in  her 
thoughts. 

"I'm  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  about  something," 
she  said. 

"Can  I  help  you?"  he  asked  solicitously. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

A  short  silence  ensued,  broken  by  Marian. 

"I  know  something  that  I'd  like  to  tell  you,  but  I 
promised  I  wouldn't  tell  and  I  do  so  want  to  that  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  about  it." 

Hardwick  was  curious  but  could  not  determine  what 
course  to  pursue.  He  knew  that  if  he  pressed  her,  she 
would  tell  him,  promise  or  no  promise,  and,  while  he 
wanted  to  know  what  she  was  withholding  from  him,  he 
did  not  wish  to  take  the  position  of  asking  her  to  break 
a  promise. 


80  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

He  chose  silence  as  the  wisest  course  and  sat  looking 
at  her  attentively. 

"Oh,  dear!"  she  sighed. 

"Is  it  an  important  thing?"  he  asked  finally. 

"Awfully  important."  She  relapsed  into  silence,  wish 
ing  that  he  would  resolve  her  doubt  by  asking  what  it 
was.  He  said  nothing,  however,  and  presently  she  could 
contain  herself  no  longer. 

"I  just  have  to  tell  you,  pops,  dear,  but  you  mustn't 
let  mother  or  Allie  know  you  know  anything  about  it. 
Will  you?" 

"Certainly  not,"  he  answered. 

"Well,  mother  went  to  church  this  morning  to  see 
Uncle  James  and  she  talked  his  ear  off  and  he  promised 
to  raise  your  salary  to  five  thousand  dollars." 

She  blurted  this  out  all  in  one  breath.  Hardwick  was 
dismayed.  Leaning  towards  her,  he  asked: 

"How  do  you  know  this?" 

"Allie  told  me  and  I  promised  not  to  tell.  You  won't 
let  on,  will  you?" 

"No;  I  won't  say  a  word." 

He  got  up  from  his  chair  and  walked  to  and  fro  on  the 
porch.  He  wanted  to  think  straight,  to  determine  what 
he  would  do,  but  he  could  not.  He  was  thoroughly  angry, 
an  anger  which  was  mixed  with  a  keen  sense  of  injury. 
Thus  far,  his  relations  with  Pemberton  had  been  all  that 
he  could  have  wished.  He  felt  that  Pemberton  had  been 
pleased  with  his  work  and  that  it  would  be  but  a  short 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  81 

time  before  its  quality  would  be  recognized  in  a  practi 
cal  way.  Pemberton  had  enjoined  him  not  to  use  his 
wife's  relationship  with  Hughes  to  procure  an  advance 
in  his  salary  and  he  had  agreed.  And  now,  in  spite  of  his 
clearly  expressed  wish,  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  done  this 
very  thing.  He  wanted  to  charge  her  with  it,  to  tell  her 
that  instead  of  helping  him  she  had  almost  surely  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  hold  his  position.  He  felt  sure 
that  Pemberton  would  simply  dismiss  him.  He  knew 
that  Hughes  was  no  more  than  a  figurehead  in  the  Pres- 
cott  Company  and  that  Pemberton's  will  was  law. 

He  did  not  want  to  lose  this  position,  entirely  apart 
from  the  consideration  that  it  might  be  difficult  to  find 
another.  He  felt  that  this  was  the  one  great  opportunity 
of  his  career,  in  which  he  was  offered  the  chance  of  real 
success  by  the  exercise  of  talents  which  he  knew  he 
possessed  and  also  the  means  to  apply  them. 

Finally,  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  must  talk  to 
Uncle  James  and  tell  him  not  to  pay  any  attention  to 
Mrs.  Hardwick's  request,  that  he  would  prefer  to  make 
his  own  way  in  the  concern  and  that  he  did  not  doubt 
that  it  would  take  but  a  short  time  for  him  to  show 
Pemberton  that  he  was  worth  at  least  as  much  as 
McNair.  He  felt  somewhat  more  comfortable  when  he 
reached  this  decision,  but  not  altogether  so.  He  still 
turned  the  matter  over  and  over  in  his  mind,  wondering 
if  there  were  not  a  better  course  for  him  to  pursue. 

As  he  was  walking  to  and  fro,  Alice  called  them  to 


82  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

the  table.  He  sat  through  the  meal,  almost  entirely 
silent.  His  taciturnity  was  observed  only  by  Marian, 
who  did  not  wonder  at  it.  Alice's  thoughts  were  else 
where  and  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  far  too  busy,  expatiating 
at  great  length  on  a  number  of  subjects  interesting  to 
herself  alone,  to  notice  any  change  in  his  manner. 

Directly  the  meal  was  over,  he  announced  that  he 
was  going  to  take  a  short  walk.  As  the  diminutive  and 
incompetent  maid  was  taking  her  Sunday  out,  the  three 
women  of  the  family  had  the  clearing  up  to  attend  to  and 
none  of  them  offered  to  accompany  him. 

He  walked  to  the  nearest  drug  store  and  entered  the 
telephone  booth.  It  was  a  matter  of  a  moment  to  get  the 
Hughes  house  on  the  wire,  and,  when  he  did  so,  he  was 
utterly  amazed  to  learn  that  Mr.  Hughes  had  just  left 
for  Washington. 

His  first  sensation  was  one  of  great  relief  Uncle 
James'  departure  had  at  least  delayed  the  matter.  He 
would  now  have  time  to  think  it  over  carefully.  If  it 
were  actually  necessary,  he  could  forestall  the  effect  of 
his  wife's  meddling  by  telling  Pemberton  of  it  before  he 
could  hear  from  Hughes,  and  by  disclaiming  the  desire 
to  make  any  alteration  in  their  existing  arrangements 
based  upon  any  consideration  other  than  the  value  of 
his  services  to  the  Company. 

He  was  buoyantly  cheerful  when  he  rejoined  the 
family.  No  one  except  Marian  noticed  the  change  in  his 
demeanor.  She  wondered  what  had  brought  it  about  and 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  83 

was  burning  to  ask  him  about  it.  However,  she  did  not 
do  so,  restrained  by  a  sense  of  delicacy.  Presently,  how 
ever,  she  fell  under  the  spell  of  his  good  humor,  and, 
childlike,  forgot  all  about  it. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  Hardwick  awoke.  As 
he  lay  in  bed,  trying  all  of  the  well-known  expedients 
for  the  wooing  of  reluctant  sleep,  it  suddenly  came  to 
him  that  it  was  well  within  the  possibilities  that  Uncle 
James  may  have  communicated  with  Pemberton  during 
the  afternoon.  This  bare  possibility  became  a  dreadful 
reality  to  him  and  his  misery  of  the  day  before  returned 
to  him  more  acutely  than  ever.  During  the  hours  that 
immediately  precede  arising,  the  human  system  is  at  its 
lowest  ebb,  and  any  untoward  circumstance  is  magnified 
inordinately.  Perhaps  it  is  partly  due  to  the  impossi 
bility  of  action.  We  are  chained  to  our  beds  by  the  cus 
tom  of  years  and  we  suffer  the  pains  of  the  prisoner. 

After  a  period  of  dull  contemplation  of  this,  to  him, 
dire  possibility,  Hardwick  succeeded  in  bringing  his 
reason  to  bear  on  the  subject.  Finally,  he  decided  that 
he  would  go  to  Pemberton  as  soon  as  the  latter  would 
receive  him  and  lay  the  whole  story  before  him.  He  felt 
quite  sure  that  Pemberton  would  take  his  word  for  his 
entire  ignorance  of  Mrs.  Hardwick's  intention. 

This  decision  reached,  he  was  again  more  comfort 
able  and  shortly  thereafter  fell  into  a  sound  slumber. 


CHAPTER  IX 

PUNCTUALITY  was  one  of  Ruth  Bernstein's 
qualities.  Half -past  eight  found  her  at  her  desk 
every  morning,  ready  for  business.  Hers  was  a  dis 
position  which  demanded  that  she  fail  in  no  particular 
so  obvious  as  this.  At  first  a  matter  of  pure  self-con 
sciousness,  it  speedily  became  an  ingrained  habit,  and 
in  this  she  was  like  the  canary  which,  when  liberated, 
sought  the  cage  to  which  it  was  accustomed.  If  her 
punctuality  had  ever  caused  her  any  sense  of  compul 
sion  to  an  imposed  discipline,  it  was  now  a  perfectly 
normal  function  closed  to  all  question. 

She  was  usually  the  first  to  arrive  at  the  office.  The 
other  employees  drifted  in  between  half-past  eight  and 
quarter  of  nine  and  it  was  usually  nine  o'clock  before  the 
entire  force  was  at  work.  The  principals  came  at  nine  or 
later,  Pemberton  usually  reached  his  desk  at  nine-fifteen. 
On  the  Monday  morning  following  the  events  last 
recounted,  Ruth  was  much  surprised,  on  arriving  at  her 
desk,  to  find  a  note  addressed  to  her  in  Pemberton's 
hand  asking  her  to  come  to  his  office  immediately.  She 
was  utterly  unable  to  account  for  his  early  coming, 
although,  hi  the  few  minutes  which  elapsed  before  she 
entered  his  office,  she  thought  of  a  number  of  reasons 
which  might  have  been  responsible,  all  of  which,  how 
ever,  she  rejected  as  being  highly  improbable. 

84 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  85 

She  was  conscious,  immediately  upon  opening  the 
door  of  his  office,  that  he  had  been  awaiting  her  arrival 
anxiously.  He  was  not  seated  at  his  desk,  but  stood  by 
the  window.  She  felt  that  he  was  angry,  and  his  manner, 
as  he  almost  curtly  bade  her  close  the  door,  confirmed  it. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  as  he  came  towards  his  desk. 
There  was  no  other  greeting. 

Ruth  sat  down  in  silence,  waiting  for  him  to  speak. 

"Listen,  Ruth,"  he  said,  and  she  started  at  his  use 
of  her  given  name,  but  she  made  no  protest.  "Yesterday 
afternoon,"  he  went  on,  "Hughes  sent  for  me  and  prac 
tically  ordered  me  to  raise  Hardwick's  pay  to  five 
thousand  dollars."  He  looked  at  her  searchingly  as  he 
uttered  these  words,  as  though  he  would  read  the  impres 
sion  they  made  upon  her  hi  her  face.  But  she  showed 
only  a  cold  interest. 

"I  told  Hardwick,"  he  continued,  "when  I  engaged 
him,  that  he  was  not  to  use  his  wife's  relationship  to  have 
his  salary  increased,  and  he  agreed  to  it."  He  spoke 
quickly,  with  much  warmth.  Ruth  still  maintained  her 
air  of  detached  interest  but  said  nothing.  Pemberton, 
who  had  been  standing  by  his  chair,  now  sat  down  in  it, 
but  immediately  got  up  again  and  resumed  his  former 
position.  He  was  clearly  nervous,  she  thought,  and  won 
dered  why.  There  was  nothing  difficult  about  the  situ 
ation,  as  she  saw  it;  the  whole  issue  lay  in  Pemberton's 
hands. 

"I'll  have  to  get  rid  of  him,"  he  resumed,  "I'm  not 


86  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

going  to  have  this  business  run  on  any  such  basis.  Hard- 
wick's  a  pretty  good  man,  much  better  than  the  aver 
age;  better  even  than  I  thought  he  was.  But  I  won't 
stand  for  this."  He  began  to  walk  to  and  fro,  his  per 
turbation  mounting  visibly. 

"Why  do  you  tell  me  this?"  she  asked  at  length. 

"Because  I  want  you  to  take  his  position,"  he  an 
swered,  stopping  in  front  of  his  desk  and  looking  at  her 
fixedly. 

"We  went  over  that  before,"  she  answered  calmly, 
"and  my  answer  is  the  same  now  as  it  was  then.  Besides, 
I  want  to  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  we  agreed 
that  you  were  not  to  call  me  'Ruth,'  certainly  not  in  the 
office." 

"Oh!  What's  the  use  of  all  this?"  he  asked  angrily. 
"Why  do  you  continually  hold  me  at  arm's  length? 
What's  the  matter  with  me?" 

"Nothing,"  she  said  in  answer  to  the  last  of  his  ques 
tions,  "but  you  know  that  you  agreed  as  the  price  of  my 
remaining  here  that  you  would  not  press  me  to  change 
my  decision  for  one  year.  And  that's  not  two  months 
ago."  She  spoke  with  great  earnestness  but  with  perfect 
control  of  herself. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  you,"  he  went  on. 
"You  seem  to  be  in  perfect  sympathy  with  all  of  my 
ideas,  you  are  willing  to  have  me  as  a  friend,  you're  even 
satisfied  to  consider  me  as  much  more  than  that,  and 
yet  you  insist  upon  a  whole  year  to  make  up  your 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  87 

mind."  He  began  anew  to  walk  to  and  fro,  his  anger 
dominating  him. 

"Listen,  Mr.  Pemberton,"  she  began. 

"Don't  call  me  'Mr.  Pemberton'  when  we  are  alone," 
he  cried.  "If  you  can't  call  me  'Fred,'  don't  use  any 
name  at  all." 

She  rose,  saying:  "There's  nothing  to  be  gained  by 
my  staying  here  while  you're  in  your  present  mood," 
and  started  for  the  door. 

"Sit  down,"  he  almost  shouted,  "I  want  to  talk  to 
you." 

She  came  back  to  her  chair  but  did  not  seat  herself. 
She  looked  at  him  questioningly,  but  he  did  not  speak 
to  her.  After  a  pause,  she  said  quietly: 

"What  do  you  wish  to  say  to  me?" 

"Just  this:  I  want  you  to  help  me  out  of  this  diffi 
culty."  His  tone  was  quiet,  persuasive. 

"How?"  she  inquired. 

"I  want  you  to  take  Hardwick's  place." 

"Are  you  really  going  to  discharge  him?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Because  he  broke  his  promise  to  me.  I'm  either  going 
to  run  this  business  or  I'm  not  going  to  run  it."  His 
voice  was  again  in  his  usual  matter-of-fact  business  tone. 

"What  did  Mr.  Hughes  say  to  you?" 

"He  told  me  that  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  come  to  him 
and  had  insisted  that  he  had  promised  her  that  Hard- 


88  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

wick  would  receive  the  same  salary  that  McNair  got. 
He  denied  having  made  this  promise,  but  said  that  he 
might  have  given  her  that  impression.  At  any  rate,  he 
said  that  he  had  told  her  yesterday  morning  that  he 
would  speak  to  me  about  it  and  that  he  would  very  much 
like  me  to  do  it." 

"And  you  offered  your  resignation,"  she  interrupted, 
coolly. 

"How  did  you  know?"  he  asked,  surprised. 

"I  know  you,"  she  answered. 

"Well,  I  did  offer  to  resign  but  he  wouldn't  hear  of 
it.  He  told  me  the  matter  was  entirely  in  my  hands  and 
that  I  should  do  whatever  I  thought  best." 

"And  you  think  it  best  to  discharge  him,"  she  said, 
scornfully. 

"How  else  could  I  maintain  discipline?" 

"Oh!  Discipline,"  she  said,  still  scornfully. 

"Well,  discipline  or  not,  that's  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

"Mr.  Hardwick's  a  good  man  in  the  position,  isn't 
he?"  she  inquired. 

"I  told  you  that  a  few  minutes  ago.  That's  what 
makes  me  mad." 

"And  you're  going  to  get  rid  of  him  because  he  wants 
to  be  paid  a  fair  salary?"  she  asked. 

"I  don't  mind  the  amount  of  the  salary.  I  only  object 
to  the  means  he  used." 

"If  you  don't  object  to  the  salary,  why  didn't  you 
give  it  to  him  in  the  first  place?  "  Ruth  asked  all  of  these 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  89 

questions  in  the  quietest  manner.  She  still  stood  by  the 
chair,  one  hand  resting  on  the  back  of  it.  She  looked 
directly  at  him  and  her  steady  gaze  was  visibly  making 
him  uncomfortable. 

"Because  I  wanted  him  to  have  an  incentive  to  work, 
to  show  what  was  in  him,"  he  answered. 

"That's  what  you  tell  yourself  and  what  you  make 
yourself  believe,  but  Mr. — "  She  paused,  remembering 
his  injunction  not  to  address  him  formally.  "The  real 
truth  is  that  you  wanted  to  master  him,  you  wished  to 
bend  him  to  your  will,  you  wanted  to  domineer,  to 
bully —  Oh,  I  know  I'm  right,"  she  went  on,  as  he  made 
a  gesture  of  impatience,  "you  can't  help  yourself.  You're 
the  master  and  you  want  everyone  to  know  it,  and  what's 
more,  to  feel  it.  You'd  bully  me  if  you  could." 

"No,  I  wouldn't.  You're  not  fair.  You—" 

"I  am  fair,"  she  interrupted,  "but  you're  not.  Are 
you  really  going  to  let  him  go?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  if  you  do,  I  won't  stay  here.  You  can  fill  two 
places  instead  of  one."  There  was  no  mistaking  her 
sincerity.  Pemberton  knew  that  she  meant  every  word. 

"Why  are  you  so  much  interested  in  him?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  not  interested  in  him.  I'm  interested  in  you,  I'm 
interested  in  fairness.  I  want  you  to  use  your  power,  Lord 
knows  you  have  it,  with  justice.  Please  don't  do  this 
thing — "  she  pleaded. 

"Are  you  asking  me  not  to  do  it  for  your  sake?"  he 
asked  quickly. 


90  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"No;  for  your  own." 

"I'd  do  anything  for  you,  Ruth,"  he  said  with  intense 
earnestness.  "Even  this,  which  goes  against  all  of  my 
ideas.  If  you'd  ask  me  to  keep  Hardwick  and  double  his 
salary  just  to  please  you,  I'd  do  it  in  a  minute." 

"You  don't  understand,"  she  said  anxiously.  "It  isn't 
for  me,  it  isn't  for  Mr.  Hardwick,  it's  for  you.  Don't  you 
see,  Fred?"  she  was  so  intent  upon  conveying  her  mean 
ing  to  him  that  she  used  his  Christian  name  uncon 
sciously.  But  he  was  fully  conscious  of  it,  and  it  thrilled 
him. 

"Don't  you  see,"  she  went  on,  "that  I  have  a  standard 
for  you  that  I  want  you  to  live  up  to?  You  mustn't 
always  drive,  you  needn't  always  force  others  to  do 
your  bidding,  simply  because  you  have  been  given  the 
power.  Here's  this  man,  for  instance,  whom  you  com 
pelled  to  take  his  position  at  a  salary  far  below  what 
you  knew  it  was  worth  just  because  you  could  do  it. 
It's  beneath  you,  it's  beneath  my  ideal  of  what  a  strong 
man  should  do." 

Pemberton  listened  to  her  intently.  He  felt,  rather 
than  perceived,  the  beauty  of  her  voice,  he  was  uplifted 
by  her  earnestness. 

"I  don't  say  Mr.  Hardwick  was  right,"  she  continued, 
"to  send  his  wife  to  Mr.  Hughes  after  he  promised  not 
to  do  so.  But,  after  all,  what  do  you  know  about  what 
lay  behind  it?  What  do  you  know  of  their  circum 
stances  that  should  make  you  so  ready  to  judge?  You 
won't  do  this  thing,  will  you?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  91 

Pemberton  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  and  then 
walked  over  to  her  and  held  out  his  right  hand.  She 
took  it  in  her  own,  still  looking  at  him  fixedly. 

"You  won't  do  it?"  she  asked  again. 

"No,"  he  said,  and  was  strangely  happy  in  his  sub 
mission. 

"All  right,"  she  answered  brightly,  withdrawing  her 
hand  from  his.  "That's  fine.  You've  made  me  very 
happy."  The  radiant  look  she  gave  him  filled  him  with 
joy  as  he  watched  her  leave  the  room. 

When  she  had  gone,  he  stood  for  a  moment,  a  prey  to 
conflicting  emotions.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment  and 
then  his  customary  manner  was  again  upon  him.  He 
seated  himself  at  his  desk,  picked  up  his  telephone  and 
said: 

"Send  Mr.  Hardwick  to  me." 

A  moment  later  he  was  informed  that  Mr.  Hardwick 
had  not  yet  reached  the  office.  Pemberton  looked  at  his 
watch  and  saw  that  it  was  not  yet  nine  o'clock.  He 
thought  for  a  moment  and  then  telephoned  that  he  no 
longer  desired  to  see  Mr.  Hardwick. 

His  mail  was  then  brought  to  him,  not  more  than  a 
half  dozen  letters.  He  initialed  all  but  one  which  he  laid 
away  in  one  of  the  drawers  in  his  desk.  Calling  a  boy,  he 
directed  him  to  distribute  those  which  he  had  initialed. 

This  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  minutes,  and  no  sooner 
was  it  finished  than  the  head  of  the  sales  department 
asked  for  and  obtained  an  interview  which  engaged  both 
of  them  for  the  next  two  hours. 


CHAPTER  X 

HARDWICK  was  somewhat  late  in  coming  to 
the  office  on  this  Monday  morning.  He  was 
quite  variable  in  this  respect,  although  he 
devoutly  believed  himself  to  be  the  soul  of  punctuality. 
His  plans  always  took  a  careful  account  of  the  time  he 
proposed  to  use  for  any  enterprise.  The  plan  once  made, 
any  interruption  or  delay  was  considered  unavoidable 
and  of  no  effect  upon  the  validity  of  his  original  intention 
because  it  could  not  have  been  foreseen.  Hardwick  was 
what  may  be  called  an  optimist,  his  experience  was  of  lit 
tle  service  in  his  calculations  of  the  future.  If  ninety-nine 
of  his  projects  failed  to  mature  exactly  as  he  expected, 
that  was  no  reason  for  him  not  to  anticipate  perfect 
fruition  for  the  hundredth. 

As  he  hurriedly  walked  from  the  car  to  the  office  this 
morning,  he  was  turning  over  in  his  mind  various 
methods  of  explaining  to  Pemberton  his  wife's  unauthor 
ized  petition  to  Hughes.  It  had  seemed  quite  simple  to 
him  before,  but  now,  when  it  was  actually  to  be  done,  it 
developed  extraordinary  difficulty.  It  would  not  be  easy 
to  admit  that  his  word  went  for  so  little  in  his  own  house 
hold.  Such  an  admission  would  hurt  his  pride  in  many 
ways.  It  was  quite  conceivable  that  it  would  open  the 
door  to  questions  which,  even  if  they  were  not  actually 
put  into  words,  would  cause  him  great  embarrassment. 

92 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  93 

Of  course,  he  could  so  arrange  the  facts  which  he  had  to 
tell  that  it  might  be  made  to  appear  that  the  meeting 
between  Mrs.  Hardwick  and  her  uncle  had  been  quite 
accidental  and  that  the  subject  of  his  salary  had  been 
discussed  as  a  result  of  some  remark  of  Hughes  which 
had  led  her  to  comment  on  the  difference  between  his 
salary  and  that  paid  McNair.  No,  that  wouldn't  do. 
It  was  too  thin.  It  may  be  observed  that  Hardwick 
would  not  have  scrupled  to  lie  about  the  matter  if  he 
could  have  hit  upon  a  dependable  perversion  or  rear 
rangement  of  the  truth.  But  he  had  conscientious 
scruples  against  being  caught  in  a  lie.  He  valued  the 
opinion  of  others  far  too  much  to  be  able  to  rest  content 
under  the  imputation  of  untruthfulness. 

He  was  still  uncertain  as  he  entered  the  office  and  his 
doubt  troubled  him.  As  he  was  opening  his  desk,  the 
thought  came  to  him  that  he  was  foolish  to  try  to  decide 
in  advance  what  to  say.  He  would  go  to  Pemberton  just 
as  soon  as  he  had  gone  through  his  mail.  When  he  was 
in  his  presence,  the  right  words  would  come.  He  hated 
the  whole  business.  If  only  his  wife  had  not  meddled. 

As  he  went  through  the  letters  which  were  awaiting 
him,  he  found  that  he  was  not  really  grasping  their  con 
tents.  There  was  a  clamor  in  his  mind  which,  when  he 
arrested  the  attention  he  was  forcing  on  his  correspond 
ence,  was  a  dull  repetition  of  the  question:  What  should 
he  say  to  Pemberton?  He  found  himself  growing  nerv- 
ousjan  irritation  seized  him  which  he  could  not  throw  off. 


94  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

At  last  the  letters  had  been  looked  at,  one  by  one, 
although  he  scarcely  knew  what  they  contained,  and 
then,  feeling  that  he  must  rid  himself  of  the  incubus 
which  weighted  him,  he  asked  the  operator  to  inquire 
whether  Mr.  Pemberton  could  see  him.  Word  came 
promptly  that  Mr.  Pemberton  was  engaged  and  could 
not  be  disturbed  for  at  least  one  hour.  The  news  was  an 
instant  balm  to  his  spirits.  A  delay  was  just  what  he 
felt  he  needed  and,  with  great  relief,  he  again  went  over 
his  letters,  this  time  with  sharp  attention. 

When  he  had  mastered  their  contents,  he  called  for 
Miss  Henderon  and  set  promptly  to  work  dictating. 
The  first  few  letters  were  easy  to  answer  and  there  was 
no  pause  between  them.  At  last  he  came  to  one  which 
required  some  consideration,  and,  as  he  sat  in  thought, 
Miss  Henderson  saw  an  opportunity  for  conversation 
and  embraced  it.  Hardwick  answered  her,  at  first  with 
little  interest,  but  soon  yielded  to  his  own  love  of  small 
talk  and  momentarily  forgot  his  business.  Their  talk 
lasted  only  a  few  minutes  and  ceased  when  he  again 
picked  up  the  letter  he  was  engaged  in  answering. 
Obedient  to  his  gesture,  Miss  Henderson  poised  her 
pencil,  her  attitude  one  of  complete  attention,  when  an 
idea  came  to  her. 

"Have  you  seen  Mr.  Pemberton  yet?"  she  asked. 

Hardwick  was  completely  unnerved  by  this  simple 
question.  In  view  of  the  emotion  which  had  so  recently 
controlled  him,  he  was  entirely  taken  aback  by  her 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  95 

query.  What  did  it  mean?  What  did  she  know?  Was  it 
possible  that  Hughes  could  have  communicated  with 
Pemberton  after  all?  He  had  a  choking  feeling  as  he 
answered: 

"No;  why  do  you  ask?" 

Miss  Henderson  was  busily  regarding  the  finger  nails 
of  her  right  hand  and  did  not  notice  the  intense  interest 
in  his  voice  which  he  tried  to  conceal.  She  answered: 

"Just  as  I  was  coming  into  the  office  I  heard  the 
operator  say  that  Mr.  Pemberton  wanted  to  see  you. 
I  don't  think  you  were  here  yet." 

"Oh!"  said  Hardwick.  He  felt  that  he  must  think. 
He  could  not  go  on  with  his  dictation  and,  laying  down 
the  letter,  dismissed  her. 

What  could  it  mean  other  than  Pemberton's  knowl 
edge  of  Mrs.  Hardwick's  action?  He  made  no  doubt  of 
what  would  happen.  As  soon  as  Pemberton  was  ready, 
he  would  send  for  him  and  discharge  him.  An  infinite 
misery  seized  him  in  which,  panic  stricken,  he  saw  him 
self  without  a  position,  crushed  by  an  overwhelming 
mass  of  debt,  discredited,  helpless,  his  family  hi  want. 
He  sat  at  his  desk  blankly,  unconscious  of  his  surround 
ings,  incapable  of  thought. 

But  the  mood  was  too  extreme  to  last,  and  as  it  began 
to  dissipate  he  heard  Ruth  Bernstein  ask  him  a  ques 
tion.  He  looked  up  and,  begging  her  pardon,  asked  her 
to  repeat  it,  explaining  that  he  had  been  so  intent  upon 
a  certain  matter  that  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  her 
presence. 


96  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

« 

She  repeated  her  question,  and  as  she  did  so  he  forced 
himself,  by  a  great  effort,  to  take  in  what  she  said, 
although  a  large  part  of  his  attention  was  still  claimed 
by  the  thoughts  which  had  completely  dominated  him 
but  a  moment  before. 

As  they  talked,  he  gradually  regained  mastery  of  his 
mind  and,  before  they  were  half  through,  he  was  ready 
to  laugh  at  his  recent  abject  fear.  If  he  must  lose  this 
position,  he'd  get  another.  After  all,  his  life  did  not 
depend  entirely  upon  the  favor  of  the  business  manager 
of  the  Prescott  Company. 

When  they  had  disposed  of  the  matter  which  she  had 
brought  to  him,  he  asked  her: 

"Was  Mr.  Pemberton  inquiring  for  me?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "but  afterwards  he  said  that 
he  had  changed  his  mind.  That  was  before  you  came  in." 

"You  don't  know  what  he  wanted?"  he  asked. 

She  took  refuge  in  a  lie. 

"No,"  she  said  slowly. 

There  was  just  a  shade  of  doubt  hi  her  tone,  the  least 
bit  imaginable;  enough,  however,  to  make  him  look  at 
her  questioningly.  But  her  face  was  inscrutable;  she  met 
his  gaze  directly  and  he  read  a  challenge  in  her  eyes 
which  he  could  not  meet,  and  turned  away.  She  took  this 
as  a  dismissal  and  left  him. 

He  picked  up  some  papers  from  his  desk  and  examined 
them,  without  the  ability,  however,  to  fix  his  mind  on 
them.  He  knew  that  he  would  be  unable  to  work  until 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  97 

this  matter  was  off  his  mind.  So,  putting  on  his  hat,  he 
told  Ruth  that  he  was  going  over  to  the  printer  to  give 
some  instructions,  and  left  the  office. 

In  the  street  he  felt  better,  and,  as  he  walked  along 
rapidly,  he  found  himself  taking  a  clearer  view  of  the 
whole  business.  After  all,  nothing  had  happened  with 
which  he  could  reproach  himself.  That  much  was  clear 
and  his  conscience  was  easy.  As  soon  as  he  could  see 
Pemberton,  he  would  tell  him  the  whole  story  straight 
forwardly.  He  would  make  no  attempt  to  deceive  him  in 
any  way.  If  Pemberton  chose  to  disbelieve  him,  if  he 
demanded  his  resignation,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
find  another  position.  It  would  be  hard,  particularly  in 
view  of  the  questions  the  brevity  of  his  connection  with 
the  Prescott  Company  would  bring,  but  that  was  just 
his  bad  luck.  And  then  anger  at  his  wife  seized  him.  What 
had  she  ever  done  to  help  him?  She  was  extravagant, 
shiftless,  lazy.  Yes,  lazy.  Other  men  similarly  situated 
got  along  well.  They  seemed  to  spend  more  money  than 
he  and  they  never  got  into  debt.  It  must  be  because  their 
wives  were  really  economical,  while  Florrie,  meaning 
well,  no  doubt,  simply  frittered  away  the  money  he 
gave  her,  with  the  result  that  they  were  always  in  arrears 
and  had  nothing  to  show  for  what  they  spent.  He  deter 
mined  to  speak  to  her  again,  and  this  time  he  would 
not  allow  her  to  sidetrack  him  by  irrelevant  answers. 
But  even  as  he  made  this  resolution  he  had  a  vision  of 
their  many  previous  talks  on  this  subject,  which  had 
invariably  ended  in  his  utter  defeat. 


98  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

And  then  he  came  back  to  his  impending  interview 
with  Pemberton.  He  began  to  phrase  his  opening  remarks 
and  soon  found  himself  composing  a  fine,  moving  state 
ment,  eloquent  in  its  complete  simplicity.  By  this  time 
he  was  thoroughly  master  of  himself  and  walked  quickly 
back  to  the  office.  As  he  entered,  he  asked  the  telephone 
operator  to  see  if  Mr.  Pemberton  could  give  him  a  few 
minutes.  He  had  no  sooner  reached  his  desk  than  he  was 
told  that  he  might  come  in  at  once. 

Pemberton  was  sitting  at  his  desk  as  usual  with  the 
appearance  of  having  nothing  to  do.  He  greeted  Hard- 
wick  coolly  and  asked  him  to  sit  down.  Hardwick  did 
so  and  was  just  about  to  begin  his  story  when  Pember 
ton  said: 

"Mr.  Hardwick,  I've  decided  to  advance  your  salary 
to  the  amount  we  paid  McNair.  It  will  date  from  the 
first  of  the  month." 

Hardwick  was  so  amazed  that  he  could  only  stammer 
a  word  of  thanks.  Through  his  mind  ran  the  question: 
What  could  have  happened  to  bring  such  a  thing  about? 
Was  it  possible  that  the  quality  of  his  work  was  really 
appreciated?  And  with  these  questions  came  the  cer 
tainty  that  Uncle  James  could  not  have  communicated 
with  Pemberton. 

The  latter  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  Hardwick's 
thanks  and  went  on  unconcernedly: 

"I  don't  want  you  to  think  that  this  has  been  brought 
about  in  any  way  by  the  use  of  your  wife's  relationship 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  99 

to  Mr.  Hughes  and  your  appeal  to  him  to  advance  you, 
in  the  face  of  my  request  and  your  promise  that  you 
would  not  bring  this  relation  to  bear  on  your  connection 
with  the  company.  I  resent  this  action  on  your  part,  and, 
at  first,  I  was  inclined  to  ask  for  your  resignation.  But 
I  have  determined  to  give  you  another  chance,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  to  remove  the  temptation  from  you — " 

Hardwick  broke  in  here.  "Mr.  Pemberton,"  he  said, 
hi  great  confusion,  "let  me  explain — " 

"Wait  until  I  have  finished,"  interrupted  the  other. 
"Your  work  so  far  has  been  excellent.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  you  have  the  ability  to  earn  the  higher  salary  and, 
perhaps,  even  more.  At  the  same  time,  I  am  not  accus 
tomed  to  having  my  orders  disobeyed  and  I  wish  to  give 
you  formal  notice  that  the  next  time  I  won't  be  so 
lenient." 

"Mr.  Pemberton,"  said  Hardwick,  "I  don't  want  this 
increase  unless  you  think  I'm  worth  it.  Of  course  I'll  be 
glad  to  have  it.  I  need  it.  But  I  need  your  confidence 
still  more.  I  know  I  can  make  good  in  this  job  and  even 
if  I  don't  get  the  five  thousand  now,  it  won't  take  me 
long  to  convince  you  that  I'm  actually  worth  it  by  pro 
ducing  the  goods." 

"That's  all  right,"  answered  Pemberton.  "That  mat 
ter's  disposed  of  and  we  won't  go  back  to  it.  And  if 
you'll  excuse  me — "  He  got  up  from  his  chair,  which  was 
the  signal  that  the  interview  was  over. 

But  Hardwick  would  not  go.  He  felt  he  must  clear 


100  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

himself  of  the  charge  of  disobedience  and  unfaithfulness 
to  his  promise.  He  also  arose  from  his  chair  but  did  not 
move  away  from  it. 

"One  word  before  I  go,"  he  said  hastily.  "I  did  not 
know  that  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  going  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Hughes  about  my  salary.  In  fact,  I  particularly  asked 
her  not  to  do  so  the  evening  of  the  day  we  came  to 
terms.  It  was  done  by  her  entirely  without  my 
knowledge  and  consent.  When  I  learned  of  it  in  a  round 
about  way,  I  determined  to  speak  to  you  at  the  first 
opportunity  to  disclaim  any  responsibility  and  to  ask 
you  to  pay  no  attention  to  the  request." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Hardwick,"  said  Pemberton,  in  a 
tone  which  effectually  closed  the  interview.  "We'll  say 
no  more  about  it." 

As  the  door  closed  upon  Hardwick,  Pemberton  was 
convinced  that  his  advertising  manager  was  an  accom 
plished  liar.  He  almost  regretted  his  promise  to  Ruth, 
but  the  thought  of  his  joy  in  submitting  to  her  came  back 
to  him  and  changed  this  emotion  to  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER  XI 

HARD  WICK  came  away  from  his  interview 
with  Pemberton  with  a  sense  of  defeat.  He 
felt  that  he  had  not  convinced  him  of  his 
complete  innocence.  The  sharp  closing  of  the  interview 
by  Pemberton  made  him  feel  baffled,  incapable,  like  a 
cork  in  a  strong  current.  But  this  feeling  speedily  left 
him  in  his  delight  over  the  practical  result  of  the  inter 
view.  Besides,  Pemberton  had  actually  praised  him  and 
had  called  him  worthy  of  his  increased  salary. 

He  threw  himself  into  his  work  that  afternoon  with 
even  greater  zeal  than  he  had  yet  shown,  and  when  the 
time  came  for  him  to  go  home,  he  felt  that  never  in  his 
life  had  he  done  better.  This  was  his  opportunity,  his 
first  real  chance  to  demonstrate  his  ability.  In  the  short 
meeting  of  department  managers  during  the  afternoon, 
he  had  taken  a  most  active  part  and  several  of  his  sug 
gestions  had  won  general  approval. 

He  came  home  in  the  gayest  possible  mood.  He  greeted 
all  of  the  family  effusively,  making  no  mention  of  the 
cause  of  his  happiness  until  they  had  nearly  finished 
their  dinner.  Then  he  told  them,  laying  particular 
emphasis  on  Pemberton's  words  of  appreciation  and 
making  no  reference  at  all  to  the  interposition  of  Uncle 
James.  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
this.  She  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  the  increased 

101 


102  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

salary  would  not  be  offered  immediately,  and  that  when 
it  came  it  would  be  accounted  for  entirely  by  the  re 
quest  or,  as  she  took  it,  the  order  of  her  uncle.  However, 
she  did  not  venture  any  remark  on  the  subject,  but  con 
gratulated  Hardwickupon  his  good  fortuneand  promptly 
mentioned  a  number  of  things  which  she  said  they 
required  and  which  she  believed  they  were  now  in  a 
position  to  obtain. 

Hardwick  offered  no  objection  in  the  presence  of  the 
girls,  principally  because  one  of  the  prospective  expen 
ditures  was  Alice's  college  course.  Besides,  he  had  made 
up  his  mind,  he  believed  definitely,  that  their  whole 
living  expense  must  be  put  on  a  rational  basis,  one  that 
would  permit  them  gradually  to  emerge  from  the  load 
of  debt  that  hung  over  them.  He  wished  to  discuss  these 
matters  privately  with  his  wife  and,  therefore,  waited 
until  they  had  gone  to  their  room  for  the  night. 

In  the~meantime,  as  an  outlet  for  his  gay  spirits,  he 
proposed  that  the  family  celebrate  by  going  somewhere 
for  the  evening.  The  girls  promptly  suggested  moving 
pictures,  to  which  objection  was  urged  by  their  mother 
on  the  ground  of  the  low  intellectual  plane  of  this  form 
of  entertainment.  Finally,  she  yielded  to  the  unanimous 
wish  of  the  rest  of  the  family,  and  they  repaired  to  a 
theatre  hi  the  neighborhood,  saw  the  whole  program, 
and  ended  the  evening  in  a  blaze  of  glory  by  indulging 
in  ice-cream  sodas. 

When  they  reached  home,  the  girls  went  to  bed  in 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  103 

high  spirits  and  their  parents  retired  into  the  privacy 
of  their  bedroom.  Hardwick  sat  down  at  once,  and  his 
wife  followed  his  example.  She  knew  that  he  had  some 
thing  to  say  to  her  and  waited  for  him  to  begin. 

"Florrie,"  he  said,  "now  that  we  have  this  additional 
income,  we  must  devote  ourselves  to  getting  out  of 
debt.  I've  been  thinking  over  the  matter  all  afternoon. 
I've  figured  up  what  we  owe  and  how  we'll  be  able  to 
pay  it.  It'll  take  time,  of  course,  but  I  think  we'll  be 
able  to  manage  it  inside  of  two  years."  He  paused. 

"How  much  do  we  owe?"  she  inquired. 

He  felt  the  coming  storm  and  prepared  himself  to 
meet  it. 

"Two  thousand,  eight  hundred  and  thirty  odd  dol 
lars,"  he  said  slowly.  "Do  you  want  to  know  the  details 
of  it?  I  have  a  list  here  which  I  made  up  this  afternoon." 

Mrs.  Hardwick  waved  this  proposal  to  one  side  by  a 
magnificent  gesture  which  was  supposed  to  convey  an 
intimation  of  her  contempt  for  sordid  details. 

"I  should  like  to  know,"  she  said,  her  cackle  in  evi 
dence,  now  intended  to  imply  a  patronizing  pity  for  the 
feebleness  of  her  husband's  intellect,  "I  should  like  to 
know,"  she  repeated,  emphasizing  each  word,  "how  you 
are  going  to  pay  nearly  three  thousand  dollars  of  debt  in 
two  years  out  of  your  income.  That,  unless  I  err  in  my 
figures,  would  reduce  our  total  expenditure  to  the 
amount  of  your  recent  salary." 

"Exactly,"  said  Hardwick.  He  felt  that  irritation  was 


104  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

gaining  a  measure  of  control  over  him.  He  determined 
not  to  let  it  master  him  and  added  no  explanation  of  his 
answer,  sure  that  silence  was  safer  than  speech. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  waited  a  moment  for  him  to  continue, 
but,  as  he  did  not  do  so,  she  spoke: 

"Henry,  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all.  You  are  well 
aware  of  the  fact  that  your  salary  of  four  thousand  was 
not  sufficient  to  meet  our  extremely  moderate  expenses. 
Everything  is  higher  now,  and  yet  you  expect  us  to  live 
on  even  less.  How  do  you  propose  to  accomplish  this?" 
Her  air  was  one  of  injury;  it  expressed  a  benevolent 
disappointment. 

"We're  going  to  figure  out  just  what  we  can  have  for 
thirty-five  hundred  dollars,  say  three  hundred  a  month, 
and  that's  all  we're  going  to  spend."  He  spoke  coolly, 
with  an  appearance  of  settled  determination  which  he 
was  far  from  feeling. 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  his  wife,  with  unveiled  sar 
casm,  "that  the  determination  of  these  expenditures  will 
be  in  your  hands.  You  will  decide  whether  our  dinner 
will  consist  of  veal  cutlet  or  fried  flounder;  you  will 
make  the  selection  of  suitable,  inexpensive  vegetables; 
your  approval  will  be  necessary  for  the  purchase  of  a 
bar  of  soap.  Perhaps  you  may  also  choose  the  girls' 
wearing  apparel.  Of  course,  for  mine,  there  will  be  no 
occasion  for  the  exercise  of  your  judgment,  for  there  will 
be  no  accessions  to  my  wardrobe  under  such  circum 
stances." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  105 

"Don't  be  silly,  Florrie,"  Hardwick  put  in  at  this 
point.  "Please  don't  make  a  farce  of  this  thing.  You 
know  very  well  that  all  I  want  to  do  is  to  determine  in  a 
general  way  how  much  we'll  spend  for  each  of  the  vari 
ous  items,  and  see  to  it  that  the  total  comes  within  the 
figure  that  we  have  to  dispose  of.  And  then,  stick  to  it 
in  practice." 

"I  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  business,"  said  his 
spouse,  rising  and  beginning  to  unhook  her  dress  with 
an  air  of  finality.  "If  my  management  of  our  household 
fails  to  meet  with  your  approval,  if  my  careful  economy 
at  every  turn  appears  to  you  to  be  extravagance,  there 
is  but  one  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  that  is  to  ask  to  be 
relieved  from  the  responsibility  of  disbursing  the 
munificent  sum  which  -you  place  at  my  disposal." 

Hardwick  was  thoroughly  angry. 

"You  can  cut  out  all  of  that  nonsense,  if  you  please," 
he  said,  not  loudly  but  with  an  intensity  and  an  appar 
ent  fixity  of  purpose  which  completely  surprised  Mrs. 
Hardwick.  "There's  no  use  in  pretending  that  you're 
going  to  do  something  which  you  know  very  well 
you  won't  do.  Now,  let's  get  down  to  brass  tacks,  and 
see  what  we've  got  to  do." 

Mrs.  Hardwick  saw  that  he  was  in  earnest  and  that 
it  would  be  wise  not  to  anger  him.  She  had  no  doubt  of 
her  ability  to  make  her  point  finally,  but,  for  the 
present,  it  was  inadvisable  to  push  it.  She  sat  down 
again. 


106  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  wish  you  would  not  make  use  of  those  vulgar 
expressions,  Henry,"  she  said  in  a  tone  which  was 
intended  to  convey  her  sincere  desire  to  be  of  great 
service  to  him. 

Hardwick  paid  no  attention  to  her  remark  and  went 
on  with  the  subject  of  their  expenditures. 

"I  want  you  to  figure  carefully  just  what  we  shall 
need  for  our  table,  for  ordinary  household  supplies,  for 
wages,  coal,  electric  light,  gas  and  so  on.  And  then  we 
must  consider  our  clothing.  That's  the  sensible  thing 
to  do,  and  then,  when  we  know  what  our  limit  is,  we 
must  not,  under  any  circumstances,  exceed  it.  You 
agree,  don't  you?"  he  asked,  anxiously,  hoping  that 
she  would  fall  in  with  his  views. 

"The  principle  is  absolutely  correct.  It  is  exactly 
what  I  have  always  done.  Indeed,  I  have  gone  further. 
In  many  cases  I  have  come  well  within  the  figures 
which  I  had  set.  I  am  quite  sure,  when  we  come  to  go 
over  our  expenditures  in  detail,  that  you  will  be  sur 
prised  at  my  ability  to  do  so  much  with  so  little." 

"I  don't  doubt  that  you've  done  very  well,  Florrie, 
but  you'll  admit  that  there  is  always  room  for  improve 
ment  in  anything.  We'll  go  over  the  figures  tomorrow 
evening  and  make  up  our  budget." 

"Just  as  you  say,"  she  answered.  The  words  were 
compliance  but  the  tone  was  not.  Hardwick's  anger 
again  flared  up. 

"There's  another  thing  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about," 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  107 

he  said  sharply.  "You  went  to  Uncle  James  and  asked 
him  to  have  my  pay  increased  after  I  had  told  you 
definitely  that  I  had  given  my  word  that  such  a  thing 
would  not  be  done." 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was*  unpleasantly  surprised.  She  had 
thought  that  Pemberton  would  not  care  to  disclose  the 
fact  that  he.  had  been  forced  to  raise  her  husband's 
salary  by  the  exercise  of  the  authority  of  Uncle  James. 
She  had  contemplated  with  delight  the  satisfaction  that 
would  be  hers  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  tell  dear 
Henry  what  she  had  done  for  him.  And  here  he  was 
upbraiding  her,  in  a  tone  of  anger,  for  an  action  which 
she  had  undertaken,  as  she  saw  it,  solely  in  his  interest. 

"I  suppose  you  thought,"  he  went  on  bitterly,  "that 
you  were  helping  me;  that  I  was  such  a  poor  specimen 
that,  without  your  help  and  Uncle  James',  I'd  be 
entirely  incapable  of  making  headway  in  this  job.  But 
do  you  know  what  you  almost  succeeded  in  accom 
plishing?"  He  paused  and  looked  at  her,  but  she  did 
not  answer. 

"You  nearly  had  me  discharged.  That's  what  your 
meddling  brought  about  and  no  more.  Pemberton  told 
me  that  his  first  impulse  was  to  ask  for  my  resignation, 
but  that  he  had  been  so  well  satisfied  with  my  work 
that  he  determined  to  give  me  another  chance." 

"And  you  believed  that?"  she  asked  scornfully. 

"Certainly.  You  don't  know  Pemberton.  He's  as  hard 
as  nails.  And,  besides,  he's  the  whole  show  at  the 


108  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Prescott  Company.  Uncle  James  has  as  much  to  say 
as  you  have.  He's  just  a  figurehead.  But  the  real  boss 
is  Pemberton.  They  tell  me  down  there  that  the  whole 
board  of  directors  just  sit  there  and  listen  to  him  and 
0.  K.  every  proposition  he  puts  up  to  them.  I  can  see 
Uncle  James  making  him  do  anything  he  didn't  want 
to  do,"  he  added  derisively. 

"Then  why  did  he  raise  your  salary  just  after  Uncle 
James  spoke  to  him  about  it?"  she  asked,  really  curious. 

"As  he  put  it,"  answered  Hardwick,  "it  was  to  place 
me  beyond  even  the  temptation  to  solicit  Uncle  James' 
help." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  what  they  say  about  Uncle  James 
being  a  mere  figurehead,"  replied  Mrs.  Hardwick,  "nor 
how  capable  this  man  Pemberton  may  be,  the  fact 
stands  out  that  you  received  your  increase  when  Uncle 
James  asked  for  it,  and  I  feel  that  that  is  sufficient 
evidence."  She  uttered  these  words  with  infinite  self- 
complacency,  again  feeling  quite  justified  in  regarding 
her  action  as  purely  benevolent. 

"You  don't  seem  to  remember  what  a  pitiful  figure 
I  cut  in  the  whole  proceeding,"  said  Hardwick.  "I 
give  my  word  that  I  will  not  do  a  certain  thing  and 
then  you  go  and  do  it.  Either  I'm  a  liar  or  my  word 
goes  for  nothing  in  my  own  household."  He  was  quiet 
now,  no  longer  angry,  but  deeply  hurt. 

"When  I  have  to  choose  between  the  starvation  of 
my  little  ones,"  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  resumed  her  gran- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  109 

diloquent  manner,  "and  observing  a  promise  unworthily 
extorted  from  one  whose  chief  concern  should  be  the 
welfare  of  these  children  (I  say  nothing  of  the  welfare 
of  their  mother,  she  is  quite  accustomed  to  take  second 
place),  I  do  not  hesitate.  I  am  sorry  you  are  so  thin- 
skinned,  so  anxious  to  curry  favor  with  persons  like  this 
man  Pemberton,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  your  family, 
but,  if  you  are,  that  is  no  reason  why  I  should  fail  in 
my  clear  duty."  She  arose  and  proceeded  with  her  dis 
robing,  while  he  still  remained  in  his  chair  moodily  silent. 
Presently  he  also  arose  and,  undressing  rapidly,  went 
to  bed. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  always  took  quite  some  time  to  com 
plete  her  arrangements  for  the  night,  and  was  used  to 
finding  Hardwick  asleep  when  she  was  finally  ready. 
Tonight,  however,  he  was  lying  in  bed  with  wide-open 
eyes,  with  no  sign  of  drowsiness  upon  him.  Mrs.  Hard- 
wick's  thoughts  had  been  most  pleasant  while  she  was 
undressing;  she  enjoyed  her  final  victory  and  was  dis 
posed  to  be  magnanimous  to  her  defeated  opponent. 

As  soon  as  she  was  in  bed,  she  said: 

"I've  been  thinking  about  our  obligations,  my  dear 
Henry,  and  it  occurs  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  wise 
thing  to  borrow  from  your  father  a  sufficient  sum  to 
discharge  all  of  these  debts.  All  that  he  has  will  even 
tually  come  to  you  and  your  sister,  so  that  it  will  be  a 
mere  anticipation.  Besides,  you  could  pay  him  interest, 
so  that  he  would  be  quite  as  well  off." 


110  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"You  forget  that  I  already  owe  him  nearly  five 
thousand  dollars  without  counting  the  interest." 

"I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  large  a  sum,"  answered  Mrs. 
Hardwick,  "but  what  is  the  difference?  You  are  his 
only  son  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  will  be  delighted 
to  help  you  out  of  your  difficulties." 

"I'm  ashamed  to  go  to  him  again.  He's  by  no  means 
a  rich  man.  Nearly  everything  he's  got  is  invested  in 
the  farm  and  since  mother's  death  he's  been  none  too 
successful.  I  wouldn't  have  the  face  to  ask  him." 

"That's  you  all  over,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick.  "You'd 
let  your  children  starve  hi  the  gutter  rather  than  hurt 
your  silly  pride  by  asking  for  what  is  actually  yours  by 
right.  I  don't  mean  that  you're  to  make  a  special 
errand  of  this  business.  When  we  spend  our  two  weeks 
with  father  this  summer,  you  can  bring  up  the  matter 
very  easily.  I'm  sure  you  won't  have  to  do  more  than 
mention  it  to  bring  him  to  offer  the  help  you  want." 

"Perhaps  so,"  answered  Hardwick,  and  turned  over 
in  bed  as  a  signal  that  he  wished  to  go  to  sleep.  Since 
the  suggestion  of  his  wife  did  not  call  for  immediate 
action,  there  was  no  occasion  to  bother  about  it  at 
present.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  she  said,  the  help 
might  come  without  the  necessity  of  making  a  direct 
request.  It  wasn't  such  a  poor  scheme  after  all. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  half  past  five  o'clock,  on  an  evening  of  early 
September,  in  this  year,  Mrs.  Regina  Bernstein, 
widow,  of  apparently  indeterminate  age,  al 
though  surely  more  than  thirty-five,  came  languidly  into 
the  living  room  of  her  flat  and  seated  herself  by  the  win 
dow.  She  was  slender,  and  of  somewhat  less  than  average 
height.  Her  dark  hair  was  arranged  most  demurely, 
combed  back  tightly  over  her  temples;  her  features 
were  quite  regular;  her  cheeks  were  thin,  and  the 
general  effect  of  her  face  was  that  it  was  narrow. 
Perhaps  this  was  due  in  part  to  the  manner  in  which 
her  hair  was  dressed.  She  seemed  frail,  the  pallor  of 
her  complexion  emphasized  by  the  unadorned  sombre- 
ness  of  her  simple  black  gown.  Her  general  air  was  what 
would  be  called  aristocratic,  and  the  languor  of  her 
motions  accentuated  this  impression. 

It  had  been  a  mild  day  and  the  chill  of  the  evening 
had  not  as  yet  made  itself  felt.  Still,  Mrs.  Bernstein 
wore  a  light  silk  shawl,  and,  as  she  seated  herself,  she 
drew  it  around  her  rather  tightly  as  though  she  were 
in  need  of  its  warmth.  She  appeared  to  be  in  deep 
contemplation,  although,  from  time  to  time,  her  glance 
wandered  about  the  room.  A  close  observer  would  have 
noted  that  she  did  not  actually  recognize  the  furnishings 
upon  which  her  glance  rested,  as  she  apparently  passed 

in 


112  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

in  review  the  various  objects  of  use  and  adornment, 
which  filled  but  did  not  crowd  the  apartment. 

And  yet,  in  a  manner,  the  room  was  crowded,  although 
there  was  not  much  in  it.  A  davenport,  several  chairs, 
a  table  on  which  stood  a  lamp  and  a  few  books,  a 
modest  bookcase,  well  filled  with  a  variety  of  volumes 
which  somehow  had  the  air  of  having  been  read.  That 
was  all  of  the  furniture.  What  there  was  of  it  was  in 
excellent  taste,  not  expensive  but  surely  not  cheap. 
Not  a  pretentious  array,  and,  although  the  room  was 
small,  a  consideration  of  these  items  would  compel 
the  decision  that  they  were  neither  too  many  nor  too 
large  for  it. 

On  the  walls,  papered  in  a  neutral  buff,  were  hung 
a  number  of  neatly  framed  prints,  all  of  them  reproduc 
tions  of  pictures  of  acknowledged  merit,  and  two  large 
portraits  in  oil,  heavily  framed  in  gold.  It  was  these 
two  pictures  which  crowded  the  room.  They  simply 
shouted  for  attention,  and  they  monopolized  the  view 
of  the  casual  beholder.  They  represented,  or  rather 
misrepresented,  a  man  and  a  woman.  The  artist  who 
had  painted  them  must  have  had  some  ocular  defect 
which  made  him  insensitive  to  perspective,  and  another 
which  interfered  with  his  accurate  observation  of  color. 
Stark,  staring  portraits  they  were,  unnatural,  impos 
sible.  They  looked  ancient,  utterly  out  of  date,  although 
obviously  they  were  not  more  than  thirty  years  old; 
the  costume  of  the  woman  determined  that. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  113 

But  Mrs.  Bernstein  was  used  to  them.  She  no  longer 
saw  them;  they  were  part  of  the  wall  and  they  imposed 
themselves  upon  her  consciousness  only  when  their 
frames  required  dusting.  As  she  sat  there,  absorbed  in 
thought,  she  was  not  conscious  of  her  physical  sur 
roundings,  even  the  traffic  of  the  street  below  her  did 
not  reach  her  mind. 

She  had  been  sitting  there  for  fully  fifteen  minutes 
when  the  sound  of  a  key,  inserted  in  the  lock,  caused  her 
to  look  up  attentively.  Immediately  the  door  opened 
and  Ruth  Bernstein  entered.  But  a  Ruth  Bernstein 
totally  different  from  Hardwick's  assistant.  The 
demureness  was  all  gone,  and,  in  its  place,  an  alacrity,  a 
vivacity  that  bespoke  youth,  health,  happiness. 

"Hello,"  she  said  gaily,  coming  to  her  mother  and 
kissing  her,  "how  were  you  today?" 

"Not  so  well,"  answered  Mrs.  Bernstein.  There  was 
a  plaintive  note  in  her  voice,  almost  querulous. 

"What  seemed  to  be  the  matter?"  asked  Ruth 
solicitously. 

"It's  very  hard  to  say.  I've  been  just  miserable.  I 
haven't  felt  able  to  do  a  single  thing.  I'm  as  weak  as 
a  cat." 

"Have  you  been  taking  your  medicine?"  asked  Ruth, 
who  had  taken  off  her  hat  and  had  come  over  and 
seated  herself  on  a  footstool  beside  Mrs.  Bernstein's 
chair. 

"No,  not  today,"  was  the  answer,  "I  don't  think 


114  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

that  medicine's  doing  me  one  bit  of  good.  I  feel  much 
worse  when  I  take  it." 

"Was  the  doctor  here?" 

"No,  and  I'm  getting  tired  of  him.  He's  so  unsym 
pathetic.  I  told  him  the  other  day  that  I  had  been 
reading  about  Bright's  disease  and  that  I  thought  the 
symptoms  which  were  mentioned  coincided  almost 
exactly  with  my  own." 

"Well?"  asked  Ruth,  as  her  mother  paused. 

"He  just  laughed  at  me.  I  was  so  mortified  that  I 
didn't  know  what  to  say.  I  was  so  put  out  that  I 
couldn't  tell  you  at  first.  But  what  he  said  next  was 
worse." 

"What  was  that?" 

"He  said  that  there  wasn't  anything  the  matter  with 
me,  and  the  sooner  that  I  agreed  with  him  the  quicker 
I'd  be  well.  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  so  ridiculous?" 
Mrs.  Bernstein  looked  her  indignation. 

"Well,  mother,  there's  something  in  what  he  says. 
You  know  the  first  step  towards  getting  well  is  believing 
that  you're  going  to.  It's  a  great  help." 

"I've  heard  that  before,"  answered  Mrs.  Bernstein, 
"but  it  doesn't  apply  to  my  case.  Nobody  can  tell  me 
anything  about  myself.  I  know  there's  something 
terribly  wrong  with  me.  I'm  just  miserable  all  of  the 
time."  A  tear  trickled  down  her  cheek. 

Ruth's  arms  were  about  her  mother's  neck  imme 
diately.  "There!"  she  said,  "Don't  pay  any  attention 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  115 

to  that  old  fool  of  a  doctor.  We'll  call  in  another.  We'll 
go  to  some  big  specialist  downtown,  someone  who'll 
know  just  what  to  do  for  you."  She  kissed  and  patted 
her  mother  just  as  one  would  a  child,  and  presently 
Mrs.  Bernstein  was  calmer. 

When  her  mother  was  again  in  moderate  spirits,  she 
was  seldom  really  cheerful  for  more  than  a  few  minutes 
at  a  time,  Ruth  began  upon  the  subject  which  interested 
her  most  actively  at  the  moment. 

"What  have  we  got  for  dinner?"  she  asked. 

"There's  a  steak,  and  I  thought  we'd  have  some 
French  fried  potatoes,  and  there's  lettuce  and  a  cante- 
loupe.  I  pared  the  potatoes  and  washed  the  lettuce,  but 
I  didn't  have  the  strength  to  do  any  more." 

"That's  all  right.  I  don't  mind  cooking,"  answered 
Ruth  brightly,  "just  wait  'til  I  put  on  my  apron  and 
then  you  come  into  the  kitchen  and  we'll  talk  while  I 
get  things  ready.  I  won't  be  a  moment."  She  ran  out 
of  the  room. 

A  few  minutes  later  she  reappeared,  her  dress 
entirely  covered  by  a  long  apron.  "Come,  mother," 
she  said,  and  went  into  the  kitchenette,  a  tiny  little 
room,  not  much  larger  than  an  average  closet.  Mrs. 
Bernstein  followed  her,  and  took  a  seat  just  outside 
of  the  door  for  the  very  good  reason  that  if  both  of 
them  entered,  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  either 
of  them  to  move. 

Ruth  set  about  the  preparation  of  the  meal,  gaily 


116  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

humming  a  tune.  For  a  while  her  mother  sat  in  silence, 
but  presently  she  spoke: 

"Your  Aunt  Sarah  was  here  today." 

"Well,  what  did  that  old  busybody  have  to  say?" 
asked  Ruth  cheerfully. 

"Oh!  Ruth!"  expostulated  Mrs.  Bernstein.  "That's 
not  respectful  to  your  father's  sister." 

Ruth  laughed.  "It  isn't  my  fault  that  she's  my 
father's  sister,  is  it?"  Mrs.  Bernstein  made  a  gesture  of 
deprecation,  but  said  nothing,  so  Ruth  continued. 
"And  it  surely  isn't  my  fault  that  she's  a  busybody. 
What  was  she  complaining  about  today?" 

"She  wasn't  complaining  about  anything.  She — " 
Mrs.  Bernstein  paused. 

"Well,  what  did  she  have  to  say?" 

"Oh!  nothing  in  particular." 

"Didn't  she  say  something  about  me?  Something 
about  my  getting  married,  didn't  she?" 

"She  was  talking  about  Horace  Gerson.  He's  a 
splendid  fellow,  everybody  likes  him — " 

"And  he's  so  successful  in  business,"  put  in  Ruth, 
rather  sarcastically. 

"Well,  that's  nothing  against  him,  is  it?"  asked  her 
mother. 

"Oh!  I  don't  mind  Horace  and  I  surely  am  glad  he's 
getting  along,  provided  he  lets  me  alone.  I  don't  dislike 
him  except  when  I'm  with  him  and  then  he  just  bores 
me  stiff." 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  117 

"I  don't  see  what's  the  matter  with  him.  He's  very 
well  educated." 

"You  mean  he  went  to  college.  That  doesn't  mean 
that  he's  educated." 

"He's  as  well  educated  as  Fred  Pemberton,"  said 
Mrs.  Bernstein.  There  was  just  enough  tartness  in  her 
tone  to  make  her  remark  unpleasant  to  Ruth. 

"That  depends,"  she  answered.  "Fred  never  went  to 
college  unless  you  count  a  term  in  a  business  college. 
Education  is  a  pretty  big  thing,  and  some  men  might 
spend  their  whole  lives  hi  a  college  or  university  and 
not  be  educated  when  they  were  through.  Fred  doesn't 
know  a  lot  of  things  that  I  suppose  are  very  nice  to 
know,  but  he's  got  a  mind.  He's  a  real  man." 

"You're  not  going  to  marry  him,  are  you  Ruth?" 
asked  her  mother  anxiously. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  her  daughter  seriously. 
"Sometimes  I  think  I  will  and  sometimes  I  think  I 
won't." 

"I  don't  approve  of  mixed  marriages,"  said  Mrs. 
Bernstein.  "I  don't  think  they  bring  happiness." 

"Well,  mother,"  answered  Ruth,  brightly,  "we 
won't  have  to  settle  that  this  evening  anyway.  So  let's 
talk  about  something  else." 

But  Mrs.  Bernstein  was  not  to  be  put  off.  "I  don't 
see  what  you  find  to  admire  in  him  anyway/'  she  said. 

"Oh!  There's  a  lot  about  him  to  admire.  For  one 
thing,  he's  the  most  masterful  man  I've  ever  met.  He 


118  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

just  naturally  takes  first  place,  no  matter  whom  he's 
with.  Why,  down  at  the  office — " 

"But  when  he's  here,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Bernstein, 
"he  scarcely  has  a  word  to  say  to  me.  He  doesn't  even 
half  listen  to  me  when  I  talk  to  him.  I  don't  know 
how  he  is  with  you,  but  he's  a  regular  dummy  when 
I'm  with  him." 

"He's  not  much  on  ordinary  small  talk,  I'll  admit," 
answered  Ruth.  "He  has  no  patience  for  it.  Things  are 
too  real  for  him;  he's  too  intense." 

"But  what  does  he  talk  about  to  you?"  asked  her 
mother. 

"Lots  of  things.  About  people  mostly.  He  has  the 
most  wonderful  understanding  of  people.  He  just 
puts  his  finger  on  their  weaknesses.  When  he  starts  on 
that  subject  I'm  just  spellbound.  But  here,  the  steak's 
ready  now  and  if  you'll  move  into  the  dining  room 
I'll  have  dinner  on  the  table  in  a  jiffy." 

Mrs.  Bernstein  did  as  she  was  asked  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  they  were  seated  at  the  table  enjoying  their 
plain  but  substantial  meal.  Both  of  them  ate  with  relish 
and,  if  the  elder  lady  was  as  much  of  an  invalid  as  she 
claimed,  she  was  fortunate  in  the  fact  that  her  ailment, 
whatever  it  might  be,  did  not  affect  her  appetite. 

They  ate  in  silence  for  a  while,  a  silence  broken  only 
by  remarks  incidental  to  their  present  occupation, 
remarks  entirely  necessary.  When  the  fine  edge  of 
their  appetites  was  worn  off,  they  fell  into  conversation, 
Mrs.  Bernstein  beginning  with: 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  119 

"Mrs.  Williams  stopped  in  for  a  minute  this  morning. 
What  do  you  think  she  wanted?" 

"I  suppose  she  wanted  to  borrow  some  butter  or  an 
egg,"  answered  Ruth  with  a  smile.  Mrs.  Williams  lived 
in  the  flat  immediately  over  the  Bernsteins,  and  was 
given  to  running  out  of  necessary  supplies  at  short 
notice. 

"No,"  answered  Mrs.  Bernstein  seriously,  "she  asked 
me  to  join  her  Red  Cross  Auxiliary.  What  do  you  think 
of  that?" 

"I  think  it  would  be  fine,"  answered  Ruth,  enthu 
siastically. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  strong  enough?"  asked  her 
mother  anxiously. 

"How  often  would  you  have  to  go?" 

"One  day  a  week.  Mrs.  Williams  said  a  half  day 
would  be  enough." 

"I  think  it  would  be  splendid.  It  would  take  you  out 
of  yourself." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Mrs.  Bernstein, 
doubtfully.  "But  I'd  really  like  to  do  something  to  help 
in  the  war." 

"That's  why  it  would  be  such  a  fine  thing  for  you.  I 
wish  you'd  try  it." 

"I  think  I  will.  I  told  Mrs.  Williams  I'd  let  her  know 
to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MRS.  BERNSTEIN  returned  from  her  first 
afternoon's  attendance  at   the    Red    Cross 
Auxiliary  in  a  state  of  high  enthusiasm.  Ruth 
had  come  home  a  quarter  of  an  hour  earlier  and  was 
busy  in  the  kitchenette  when  her  mother  entered. 
Instead  of  the  usual  complaint  which  met  her  daughter's 
inquiry  as  to  her  health,  she  launched  immediately  into 
a  recital  of  her  impressions. 

"It's  simply  wonderful,  Ruth,  the  way  those  women 
work  and  the  good  they  do.  And  they're  not  ordinary 
women  either.  Some  of  them  are  rich,  they  come  and 
go  in  their  automobiles.  They're  all  very  friendly.  It 
just  seems  as  though  this  war  was  going  to  make  us 
all  more  democratic.  Mrs.  L.  Percival  Sedley's  the 
chairman.  You  know  what  a  howling  swell  she  is. 
Well,  she  just  went  around  and  talked  to  everybody 
in  the  sweetest  way,  she  put  on  no  airs  at  all.  And  there 
was  a  friend  of  hers  there  who  was  with  her  all  of  the 
time,  she  just  sort  of  danced  attendance  on  her.  Let  me 
see,  what  was  her  name?  Oh!  yes;  Mrs.  Hard  wick, 
Mrs.  Henry  W.  Hardwick.  I've  never  heard  of  her,  but 
I  imagine  she  must  be  pretty  swell  too.  I  don't  judge 
from  the  way  she  looked,  because  she  was  really  rather 
dowdy,  but  then  that's  the  way  with  a  lot  of  people 
whose  position  in  society  is  assured — " 

120 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  121 

"Mrs.  Henry  W.  Hardwick?"  put  in  Ruth,  "I 
wonder — " 

But  her  mother  was  so  much  interested  in  telling  of 
her  experiences  of  the  afternoon  that  she  did  not  notice 
the  interruption  and  went  right  on. 

"You  know  we  make  surgical  dressings.  You've  no 
idea  how  particular  you  have  to  be.  You  can't  just  cut 
out  things  and  slap  them  together.  Everything  has  to 
be  measured  carefully  and  folded  to  fit  a  certain  size. 
And  then  they  have  to  conserve  the  material  too. 
You  can't  just  cut  out  the  piece  you  want  any  way. 
It  all  has  to  be  figured  out  so  that  you  get  the  most 
possible  out  of  every  yard.  It  takes  some  very  careful 
counting.  Just  think,  you  have  to  get  three  pieces 
thirteen  inches  wide  out  of  material  that's  thirty-eight 
inches.  I  don't  know  just  how  they  do  it.  They  were 
having  a  long  discussion  about  it  this  afternoon  and  I 
didn't  really  hear  how  it  was  decided.  Mrs.  Hardwick 
was  telling  me  some  of  the  difficulties  they  have.  It 
seems  that  the  main  headquarters  of  the  Red  Cross  is 
run  by  a  lot  of  regular  dummies.  They  give  orders  to 
have  things  made  a  certain  way  and  when  they're  made 
that  way  they  calmly  tell  you  that  that  isn't  right  and 
they  have  to  be  made  all  over  again.  Today  we  were 
making  over  some  little  bags  that  were  made  too  big 
in  the  first  place  and  we  were  making  them  smaller. 
I  don't  know  what  they'd  do  if  they  were  made  too 
small  in  the  first  place,  you  couldn't  make  them  larger 
without  wasting  some  material." 


122  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Don't  you  suppose,"  asked  Ruth,  "that  the  time 
wasted  in  making  those  bags  over  might  not  be  worth 
more  than  the  material?" 

"You  don't  understand,"  answered  Mrs.  Bernstein, 
"nobody's  paid  anything.  It  isn't  as  though  we  were 
paid  for  our  time." 

"Oh!  I  see,"  said  Ruth.  But  what  she  meant  her 
mother  to  understand  was  not  her  real  thought.  She 
saw  the  futility  of  attempting  to  communicate  that. 

Mrs.  Bernstein  talked  continuously  until  they  began 
their  dinner.  Even  then,  although  she  ate  with  her 
usual  good  appetite,  she  kept  up  with  her  story  of  the 
afternoon's  happenings.  It  was  not  until  they  were 
quite  through  that  she  remembered  that  she  was  an 
invalid.  She  got  up  from  the  table  and  walked  into  the 
living  room,  where  she  sank  into  a  chair,  and  sighed 
deeply. 

"What's  the  matter?"  called  Ruth  from  the  dining 
room,  where  she  was  clearing  up  the  dinner  things. 

"Oh!  I  feel  so  weak.  I'm  afraid  it  was  too  much  for 
me." 

"You'll  feel  better  in  a  minute  or  two.  Just  sit  there 
quietly." 

"Can't  you  come  in  here  and  sit  with  me  for  a  little 
while?  Maybe  if  you  talked  to  me  I'd  feel  better.  You 
can  clear  up  a  little  later  this  evening."  Mrs.  Bernstein's 
tone  was  most  plaintive. 

"I'm  sorry,"  answered  Ruth,  "but  I'll  have  to  hustle. 
Mr.  Pemberton's  going  to  call  this  evening." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  123 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before?"  asked  her  mother, 
rather  querulously. 

"I  was  so  much  interested  in  what  you  were  telling 
me  that  I  really  didn't  think  of  it." 

"I  wish  you  had  selected  another  evening." 

"Why?"  asked  Ruth.  She  felt  her  mother  was  rather 
unreasonable. 

"You  might  have  known  that  I'd  be  worn  out  after 
spending  the  day  at  the  Auxiliary." 

Ruth  came  to  the  door  of  the  dining  room  and  looked 
at  Mrs.  Bernstein.  "Would  you  like  me  to  call  him 
up  and  tell  him  I'd  rather  he  didn't  come  tonight  be 
cause  you're  not  feeling  well?"  she  asked. 

"I  wouldn't  hear  of  it,"  cried  her  mother.  "You  did 
that  the  last  time  he  was  to  come.  I  don't  want  him 
to  think  I'm  always  sick." 

"Very  well,"  replied  Ruth  and  went  out  into  the 
kitchenette. 

She  returned  in  about  half  an  hour  to  find  her  mother 
still  sitting  hi  the  chair.  She  no  longer  looked  uncom 
fortable  or  unhappy,  she  was  sleeping  quite  peacefully. 

Ruth  smiled  indulgently  when  she  saw  her.  Noise 
lessly  she  went  through  the  room  setting  things  to 
rights  and  then  went  to  her  own  room  to  dress.  When 
she  reappeared,  Mrs.  Bernstein  was  awake  and  surprised 
to  see  her  daughter  dressed. 

"Are  you  dressed  already?"  she  inquired.  "You 
couldn't  have  been  a  minute." 


124  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Oh!  yes,  I  was.  You've  been  asleep." 

"No,  I  haven't.  I  just  closed  my  eyes  for  a  minute. 
What  time  is  it?" 

"Quarter  after  eight.  He'll  be  here  soon."  And  then 
the  bell  rang. 

Pemberton  came  in,  his  usual  serious  expression 
lightened  by  a  smile.  He  greeted  Mrs.  Bernstein  with 
deference  and  inquired  as  to  her  health. 

"I've  been  just  miserable,"  answered  the  sufferer  in 
a  tone  of  deep  conviction. 

Pemberton  tried  to  assume  an  air  of  solicitude  which 
he  was  far  from  feeling. 

"What  seems  to  be  the  matter?"  he  asked. 

"Oh!  I  can't  imagine.  I  haven't  the  least  bit  of 
strength.  I  can't  make  the  least  effort  without  getting 
all  tired  out.  I  spent  to-day  at  the  Red  Cross  and  it  was 
too  much  for  me.  Ruth  can  tell  you  that  I  was  com 
pletely  worn  out  when  I  came  home.  It's  dreadful  to 
be  so  weak  all  of  the  time,  I  just  feel  as  though  I  were 
good  for  nothing." 

"What  does  your  doctor  say?"  asked  Pemberton.  He 
was  utterly  bored  but  believed  that  he  was  bound  to 
display  interest. 

"I  have  no  patience  with  doctors.  They're  all  alike. 
They  have  their  pills  and  their  medicines  and  their 
talk.  They  may  be  all  right  for  some  things,  but  a 
case  like  mine  is  beyond  them.  I  thought  the  other 
day  that  I  might  be  suffering  from  Blight's  disease. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  125 

I  had  looked  it  up  and  found  that  my  symptoms  were 
exactly  what  the  book  said,  but  when  I  tried  to  tell 
them  to  my  doctor  he  wouldn't  even  listen  to  me.  He 
almost  called  me  a  fool  and  as  much  as  told  me  that 
nothing  at  all  was  the  matter  with  me.  The  whole 
trouble  is  that  he  isn't  interested  or  that  he  doesn't 
understand  my  case  and  pretends  that  nothing  is  wrong. 
I  suppose  that  I'll  get  well  eventually  by  myself  and 
then  he'll  claim  all  the  credit  for  it.  But  I  don't  want  to 
go  on  suffering  one  moment  more  than  is  necessary 
and  there  ought  to  be  some  doctor  who  would  under 
stand  my  case  and  save  me  all  of  this  pain  and  anxiety." 

Mrs.  Bernstein  would  undoubtedly  have  kept  up  this 
patter  on  her  favorite  subject  indefinitely  had  it  not 
been  that  Ruth  caught  a  look  in  Pemberton's  face  that 
indicated  to  her  most  plainly  that  he  was  being  unduly 
bored  by  her  mother's  recital  of  her  ills.  She  said: 

"I  want  mother  to  consult  a  specialist  on  nervous 
diseases.  Don't  you  think  she  ought?" 

At  the  first  sound  of  Ruth's  voice  Pemberton  was 
all  attention. 

"By  all  means,"  he  said  to  her,  and  then  turning  to 
Mrs.  Bernstein,  "You  ought  to  consult  Dr.  Franklin." 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  new  speech  by  that  lady 
in  which  she  cited  a  number  of  uninteresting  and 
unconvincing  legends,  serious  errors  chargeable  to 
medical  specialists.  Again  Ruth  had  to  intervene  and, 
finally,  Mrs.  Bernstein  asked  to  be  excused  and  retired 
to  her  room. 


126  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Do  you  think  your  mother  is  really  sick?"  Pember- 
ton  asked  of  Ruth  after  they  had  heard  the  door  close. 

"I  don't  really  know  what's  the  matter,"  answered 
she,  seriously.  "There  must  be  something.  No  one 
could  keep  on  complaining  constantly  for  nothing." 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  Pemberton,  thoughtfully.  He 
was  silent  for  a  moment  and  then  added:  "Perhaps  it's 
just  the  need  of  complaining  that's  the  matter.  I  don't 
know  just  how  that  would  be  treated,  but  I  suppose  a 
man  like  Franklin  has  many  such  cases.  I  had  an 
aunt  who  was  always  saying  that  she  was  sick,  but 
nobody  ever  paid  much  attention  to  her,  least  of  all 
her  husband." 

Ruth  was  much  interested.  Pemberton  scarcely  ever 
mentioned  any  of  his  family.  All  that  she  knew  was 
little  more  than  the  death  of  both  of  his  parents  while 
he  was  a  boy  of  less  than  ten.  "Tell  me  about  her,"  she 
said. 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell  except  that,"  he  said  slowly 
as  though  he  were  trying  to  remember  something  that 
the  thought  of  his  aunt  brought  to  his  mind.  "I  could 
tell  you  more  about  her  husband,  my  mother's  only 
brother.  He  was  a  fine  old  snoozer." 

"How?"  she  asked. 

"He  was  the  man  I  worked  for  from  the  time  I  left 
school  until  I  was  thirty  years  old.  He's  the  one  man  that 
actually  used  me.  He  took  it  out  of  me  for  fair."  He 
paused,  a  mirthless  smile  on  his  lips.  Ruth  was  silent. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  127 

She  knew  that  questioning  would  bring  her  less  than 
waiting.  Presently  Pemberton  began  again: 

"  I  lived  with  my  uncle  after  my  parents'  death.  When 
I  was  through  at  the  high  school  he  gave  me  a  job  in  his 
hardware  store.  I  worked  there  for  about  three  years 
learning  the  business  and  getting  the  hang  of  things.  He 
paid  me  rotten  wages  and  took  a  good  part  of  them  for 
my  board.  I  didn't  kick  because  I  really  didn't  know'any 
better.  Anyway,  when  I  was  nineteen  I  knew  enough 
about  the  business  for  him  to  leave  it  mostly  to  me  to 
run.  I  seemed  to  take  to  it  naturally.  It  wasn't  long  after 
that  before  I  had  got  it  into  much  better  shape  than  it 
had  ever  been  in  before.  I  kept  the  stock  up-to-date. 
We  always  had  things  when  people  wanted  them.  Before, 
we  could  scarcely  ever  fill  a  mixed  order  complete.  And 
I  got  better  prices  from  the  manufacturers  and  the  job 
bers  we  bought  from. 

"In  a  little  while  you  could  see  our  trade  increase. 
Carpenters  and  builders  who  had  never  dealt  with  us 
before  came  to  us,  attracted  by  the  good  looks  of  the 
place  (I  kept  it  in  apple  pie  order)  and  our  large  assort 
ment.  That  gave  me  the  idea  that  we  could  get  the  call 
with  a  lot  more  people,  so  I  induced  my  uncle  to  let  me 
do  some  advertising.  Not  much  at  first,  but  it  didn't 
take  long  to  get  quite  a  number  of  new  customers,  and 
then  it  was  easy  to  get  the  old  man  to  let  me  go  as  far 
as  I  liked.  The  business  kept  on  growing  and  one  day, 
when  I  was  about  twenty-one,  I  heard  my  uncle  tell  a 


128  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

friend  of  his  that  he  had  made  nearly  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  the  last  year.  Think  of  that  amount  of  money  to 
make  in  a  retail  hardware  store  in  a  medium  size  town 
nearly  fifteen  years  ago.  Well,  that  put  an  idea  into  my 
head.  The  old  snoozer  was  paying  me  just  sixteen  dollars 
a  week  at  the  time.  I  had  never  bothered  about  my  pay. 
I  just  looked  on  it  as  my  own  business  and  enjoyed  the 
work  I  did.  You  might  say  I  enjoyed  it,  for  it  was  the 
only  thing  I  ever  did,  I  worked  nearly  every  night 
except  when  I  was  going  to  the  business  college.  I  only 
went  there  to  get  the  hang  of  bookkeeping  so  that  our 
bookkeeper  couldn't  put  anything  over  me. 

"Well,  as  I  said,  that  gave  me  an  idea.  Here  was  I, 
running  the  whole  business,  and  my  uncle  taking  it  easy 
and  I  was  getting  eight  hundred  a  year  and  he  was  draw 
ing  down  fifteen  thousand.  I  spoke  to  him  about  it." 
Pemberton  paused  and  the  mirthless  smile  again  played 
about  his  lips.  He  seemed  scarcely  conscious  of  Ruth's 
presence  and  told  his  story  with  no  apparent  effort  to 
make  an  impression  on  her.  It  was  as  if  he  were  simply 
remembering  vocally.  But  Ruth's  interest  was  intense; 
she  hung  on  his  every  word,  completely  absorbed. 

"Well,"  Pemberton  resumed,  "Uncle  George  didn't 
take  very  kindly  to  the  proposition  of  raising  my  pay. 
He  told  me  that  I  was  his  heir,  he  had  no  children  of  his 
own,  and  that,  some  day,  the  whole  business  would  be 
mine.  I  told  him  I  didn't  want  to  wait  for  any  dead  man's 
shoes,  and  that  I  wanted  something  now.  The  upshot  of 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  129 

the  whole  discussion  was  that  my  wages  were  raised  to 
twenty-five  dollars,  and  I  was  to  have  an  interest  in  the 
business  in  a  few  years. 

"  I  was  easy.  I  had  had  no  other  experience  and  as  I 
never  talked  about  my  own  affairs  to  anyone,  I  got  no 
points  from  the  outside.  I  took  the  old  boy's  guff  as 
though  it  were  gospel  and  figured  that  whatever  I  could 
do  to  increase  the  business  would  come  to  me  even 
tually,  because  my  uncle  was  one  of  the  tightest  proposi 
tions  that  ever  walked.  He  didn't  spend  one  cent  more 
the  last  year  of  his  life,  and  that  year  he  made  over  thirty 
thousand  dollars,  than  he  did  when  his  whole  income  was 
less  than  three  thousand. 

"After  a  while,  I  figured  there  were  a  number  of  lines 
that  we  could  go  into  without  materially  increasing  our 
expenses.  We  went  into  them  and  our  business  took 
another  jump.  Then  I  got  the  idea  of  opening  stores  in 
other  towns,  and  that  helped  along  too.  By  hard  work 
I  got  my  salary  raised  from  time  to  time,  and  when  I  was 
twenty-five  I  braced  my  uncle  for  the  interest  in  the 
business  which  he  had  promised  me.  But  he  put  me  off, 
giving  me  a  raise  in  pay  each  time,  until  finally,  when 
I  was  about  twenty-nine,  he  agreed  to  take  me  in  and 
give  me  a  one-fifth  interest  on  my  thirtieth  birthday, 
which  was  then  about  six  months  off.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  have  the  papers  drawn  up. 

"And  then,  just  one  month  before  my  birthday,  he 
was  killed  in  an  automobile  accident.  He  left  no  will, 


130  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

so  everything  went  to  his  wife.  She  was  sick  in  bed  at 
the  time,  but  she  agreed  to  carry  out  his  promise.  And 
then  she  died,  also  without  a  will,  and  all  of  my  uncle's 
money  and  business  went  to  her  relatives.  One  of  her 
brothers  took  the  business  and  offered  me  a  good  salary 
to  stay,  but  wouldn't  hear  of  giving  me  the  promised 
interest.  I  quit." 

Pemberton  ceased  talking  and  looked  at  Ruth.  For 
the  first  time,  he  was  aware  of  her  intense  interest,  and 
it  gave  him  a  thrill  of  keen  pleasure.  He  saw  in  her 
expression  evidence  of  his  ability  to  sway  her,  to  compel 
her  moods.  Ruth  was  vaguely  conscious  of  his  feeling  of 
triumph,  was  somewhat  embarrassed  by  it  and  hastened 
to  speak. 

"  It  seems  queer  to  think  of  anyone  getting  the  better 
of  you,"  she  said,  smiling,  just  a  touch  of  banter  in  her 
tone. 

"Not  many  have  done  it,"  he  replied.  "There's  one 
other  person  that  has."  He  paused  and  looked  at  her 
fixedly.  She  was  rather  uneasy  under  his  gaze,  she  knew 
very  well  what  was  coming.  "That  person's  you,"  he 
went  on,  "and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  I  know  it  and  must 
let  you  have  your  own  way  about  it." 

"You  wouldn't  put  me  in  your  uncle's  class,  would 
you?"  she  asked,  jokingly. 

But  he  was  in  earnest.  "Certainly  not.  You're  in  a 
class  all  by  yourself." 

"I  don't  know  whether  to  take  that  as  a  compliment 
or  not." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  131 

"Yes  you  do,  when  I  say  it,"  he  said  slowly,  and  then 
impulsively,  "Ruth — " 

But  Ruth  did  not  want  to  hear  what  she  knew  he  was 
about  to  say.  She  held  up  her  finger,  and  said  mock- 
seriously,  "Remember  your  promise." 

"Why  did  you  exact  that  promise?"  he  asked,  sud 
denly  dejected. 

"Please,  Fred,"  she  answered  coaxingly.  "Don't  let's 
go  into  that  now.  Give  me  the  time  I  asked  for.  Let  me 
make  up  my  mind  completely  so  that  I  can  be  sure  I'll 
have  no  regrets." 

He  got  up  from  his  chair  and  walked  over  to  the 
bookcase  and  made  a  show  of  reading  the  titles  of  some 
of  the  volumes  on  the  top  shelf.  She  sat  and  watched  him 
in  silence. 

Presently  he  turned  and  came  back  to  his  chair. 
"Just  as  you  say,"  he  said  in  a  manner  which  implied 
forced  resignation. 

"Just  one  word  more,"  said  Ruth,  "and  then  we'll 
talk  of  other  things.  If  you  want  me,  you  want  all  of  me. 
There  must  be  no  doubts,  no  questions.  I  must  be  sure 
that  I  can  come  to  you  whole-hearted,  ready  to  put  my 
whole  future  in  your  hands  without  regret  of  any  kind. 
You  see,  don't  you?"  There  was  an  anxious  note  in  her 
voice  as  she  finished.  Pemberton  did  not  answer,  but 
looked  at  her  intently  as  though  he  would  read  in  her 
face  all  of  the  emotion  which  lay  back  of  her  words. 

"Oh!  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  mother  met  a  Mrs. 


132  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Henry  W.  Hardwick  at  the  Red  Cross  today.  I  wonder 
whether  she  could  be  the  wife  of  our  Mr.  Hardwick. 
Do  you  know  her?" 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  I've  never  met  any  of  his  family. 
He  asked  me  if  I  would  be  willing  to  come  to  dinner  at 
his  house,  that  was  the  first  day  I  met  him,  but  I  put 
him  off.  I  never  go  out.  I  don't  enjoy  it.  I  never  know 
what  to  say  and  what  most  people  talk  about  doesn't 
interest  me  in  the  least." 

"Don't  you  think  that's  just  because  you're  not  used 
to  meeting  people  socially?  Don't  you  think  you  may  be 
missing  a  whole  lot  of  pleasure?" 

"Perhaps  I  am,  but  if  I  don't  know  it,  I  guess  I'm 
no  worse  off.  I've  never  had  the  opportunity  to  culti 
vate  the  social  graces  and  I'm  too  old  now  to  learn.  At 
any  rate,  from  what  I  see  of  people  in  business,  I'd  say 
they're  a  pretty  scurvy  lot.  I  wouldn't  trust  one  in  ten 
further  than  I  could  see  them." 

"That's  because  you've  cultivated  a  habit  of  sus 
picion.  You  don't  trust  anybody." 

"I'd  trust  you  with  anything,"  he  said  with  convic 
tion. 

Ruth  was  of  no  mind  to  pursue  the  conversation  in 
that  direction  and  led  him  to  talk  of  other  things.  He 
followed  her  lead  and  the  rest  of  the  evening  was  devoted 
to  talk  which  avoided  their  mutual  relation. 

When  he  left  at  ten  o'clock,  he  took  with  him  a  sense 
of  bafflement,  of  having  been  held  at  arm's  length,  which 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  133 

mitigated  but  could  not  greatly  diminish  the  deep  satis 
faction  which  he  always  experienced  in  her  presence. 

Ruth  closed  the  door  behind  him  and  went  over  to  a 
mirror  which  hung  on  the  wall  near  the  door.  She  gazed 
at  her  reflection  for  some  time,  and  then,  with  a  sigh, 
turned  away,  and,  after  extinguishing  the  lights,  went 
to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  Hardwicks  came  through  the  summer  with 
out  undergoing  any  perceptible  change,  if 
exception  is  made  for  the  physical  growth  of  the 
two  girls.  The  increase  in  their  income  produced  no 
appreciable  betterment  in  their  mode  of  life,  whether 
expressed  in  food,  raiment,  beauty  or  comfort,  or  any 
sensible  diminution  of  their  debts.  The  budget  upon 
which  Hardwick  had  insisted  was  never  made.  Instead, 
both  he  and  his  wife  talked  economy  for  about  ten  days 
and  then  the  subject  was  dropped.  From  time  to  time, 
an  old  debt  was  reduced  or  discharged,  and  a  new  one 
contracted  to  take  its  place.  But  they  were  more  or 
less  used  to  it.  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  totally  unconcerned 
and  her  husband  was  indifferent  and  worried  by  turns. 
Most  of  the  time  he  did  not  think  of  the  matter. 

Their  usual  visit  to  Hardwick  senior's  farm  took 
place  in  the  last  weeks  of  August.  The  family  spent  ten 
days  there,  each  of  which  began  with  the  resolution  on 
the  part  of  Henry  Hardwick  to  ask  his  father  for  a  loan 
and  each  of  which  ended  without  his  having  found  the 
necessary  courage.  Mrs.  Hardwick  prodded  him  from 
day  to  day  upon  his  dilly-dallying  but  went  no  further. 
She  did  not  dare  to  broach  the  subject  directly  to  her 
father-in-law,  because  she  knew  that  his  dislike  of  her 
was  basic,  ineradicable.  The  only  condition  upon  which 

134 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  135 

they  could  meet  was  what  might  be  described  as  armed 
neutrality.  Any  overt  action  on  the  part  of  either 
would  be  bound  to  result  in  immediate  open  belligerency. 

After  their  return  to  the  city,  Hardwick  wrote  to  his 
father  asking  for  a  loan  of  three  thousand  dollars.  He 
set  forth  in  his  letter  his  recent  increase  in  income  and 
his  consequent  expectation  of  repaying  the  loan  at 
the  rate  of  one  thousand  dollars  a  year.  He  apologized 
for  making  the  appeal  and  professed  to  be  so  much 
ashamed  of  it  that  he  had  not  been  able  to  find  the 
courage  to  make  the  demand  in  his  father's  presence. 
He  added  a  statement  of  his  deep  appreciation  of  his 
father's  constant  kindness  to  him,  the  recognition  of 
which  made  him  confident  of  the  success  of  this  appeal. 

The  answer  came  promptly  and  was  a  complete 
surprise.  It  contained  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars 
and  an  announcement  of  his  father's  intended  marriage 
to  a  young  woman  of  the  neighborhood.  The  five 
hundred  dollars,  added  to  the  amount  previously 
loaned,  was  figured  to  cover  Henry's  complete  legal 
claim  to  a  share  in  his  father's  estate. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  furious.  "To  think  of  that  poor 
old  fool,  at  his  time  of  life,  being  ensnared  by  the  wiles 
of  some  rustic  Dulcinea,"  she  exclaimed.  "If  I  allowed 
myself  the  use  of  strong  language,"  she  continued,  "I 
should  call  it  disgusting.  There  is  no  more  pitiful  sight 
than  that  of  a  grey-bearded  man,  of  an  age  supposed 
to  be  venerable,  attempting  to  relight  the  fires  of  youth 


136  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

by  dalliance  with  a  young  woman  and  particularly,  as 
in  this  case,  where  her  only  motive  is  mercenary." 

Hardwick  was  so  much  disappointed  that  he  was 
inclined  to  share  his  wife's  resentment,  but  her  expres 
sion  of  it  aroused  only  antagonism  to  her  and  he  there 
fore  took  his  father's  part. 

"How  can  you  say  that,  Florrie?"  he  asked.  "You 
don't  even  know  her."  This  was  injudicious,  for  it 
opened  the  vials  of  her  wrath  upon  him. 

"I  may  not  have  the  honor  of  the  acquaintance  of 
this  particular  person,"  she  said,  with  her  customary 
cackle,  "but  I  know  her  type.  And  I  know  your  father, 
and,  I  say  it  with  regret,  the  regret  based  upon  actual 
personal  experience,  I  know  his  son.  The  same  quality 
of  vacillation,  the  same  weakness  of  will,  the  same  lack 
of  resolution  mark  you  both.  It  is  just  like  you  to  defend 
him  in  this  unwarrantable  proceeding.  I  suppose  you 
will  be  the  first  to  rush  to  your  stepmother  and  to 
place  the  seal  of  your  approval  upon  this  unnatural 
union.  I  wash  my  hands  of  it,"  she  said  in  closing,  with 
a  magnificent  gesture. 

Hardwick  did  not  pursue  the  subject  further.  He 
wrote  his  father  a  letter  of  congratulation  and  thanks, 
in  both  of  which  he  was  thoroughly  sincere.  His  first 
disappointment  passed,  he  was  quite  willing  to  admit 
his  father's  perfect  freedom  to  do  as  he  saw  fit  with  his 
own  life. 

By  this  time  Hardwick  was  thoroughly  accustomed 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  137 

to  his  position.  His  first  enthusiasm  had  cooled  and 
he  was  attending  to  his  duties  somewhat  perfunctorily. 
He  did  not  actually  fail  to  do  any  work  which  came  to 
him,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  did  not  seek  it.  More 
and  more  he  depended  on  Ruth  Bernstein,  who,  always 
willing,  always  ready,  took  from  his  hands  task  after 
task  which  properly  should  have  been  discharged  by 
him.  She  intrigued  him  as  much  as  ever,  their  acquaint 
ance  not  having  made  a  single  step  in  the  three  months 
they  had  been  together.  Ruth  was  a  complete  enigma 
to  him,  and  he  was  an  equally  complete  enigma  to  her. 
But,  while  he  made  a  question  of  her  personality  from 
the  human,  the  social  side,  she  wondered  how  it  could 
be  possible  that  a  man  with  so  much  at  stake  should 
be  so  lax  with  regard  to  his  business. 

She  had  been  quick  to  observe  his  growing  indiffer 
ence.  At  first,  it  had  appeared  to  her  as  only  a  passing 
lack  of  interest,  one  of  those  variations  to  which  almost 
everybody  is  liable.  Her  first  feeling,  when  evidence  of 
his  incapacity  for  sustained  effort  was  apparent  to  her, 
was  that  it  was  simply  an  off  day,  but,  as  indications 
of  his  aberration  continued,  she  was  compelled  to  the 
decision  that  what  she  saw  was  not  unusual  but  was 
one  of  his  inherent,  incorrigible  traits.  Even  then, 
perhaps  because  she  had  championed  his  cause  before 
Pemberton,  she  was  anxious  to  shield  him,  to  save  him 
from  the  penalty  that  she  was  sure  that  the  business 
manager  would  impose.  This  was  instinctive  purely; 


138  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

she  did  not  reason  it,  nor  did  she  in  any  way  look  upon 
her  attitude  introspectively. 

For  some  utterly  inscrutable  reason,  Mrs.  Hardwick 
had  been  attracted  by  Mrs.  Bernstein.  She  knew 
nothing  of  the  association  of  the  latter's  daughter  with 
her  husband  in  the  business  of  the  Prescott  Manufac 
turing  Company.  Not  that  Hardwick  had  failed  repeat 
edly  to  mention  Miss  Bernstein  in  his  talks  at  home 
about  what  happened  at  the  office,  it  was  simply  that 
Mrs.  Hardwick  never  listened  to  her  husband's  remarks 
on  any  subject  which  did  not  immediately  concern  her 
own  interests.  At  all  events,  even  if  the  name  of  Bern 
stein  lingered  in  a  corner  of  her  memory,  she  did  not 
connect  it  with  the  woman  to  whom  she  had  been 
attracted  at  the  Red  Cross  Auxiliary. 

Mrs.  Bernstein,  it  may  be  observed,  had  been  much 
awed  by  Mrs.  Hardwick's  close  intimacy,  as  she  saw 
it,  with  the  commanding  personality  of  Mrs.  L.  Percival 
Sedley.  The  immediate  result  of  this  awe  had  been  a 
deferential  attention  to  Mrs.  Hardwick's  volubility  and 
a  desire  to  show  a  sympathetic  interest  in  that  lady's 
remarks,  which  she  really  felt  because,  in  her  opinion, 
the  gates  of  the  mighty  were  being  opened  to  her. 
Mrs.  Hardwick  surely  did  not  bore  her. 

This  may  have  been  the  reason  for  their  mutual 
attraction,  and  it  may  very  well  not  have  been.  Perhaps 
it  was  even  the  result  rather  than  the  cause.  But, 
whatever  it  was,  the  attraction  was  undoubted,  and, 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  139 

as  they  met  again  and  again  at  the  sessions  of  the 
auxiliary,  their  acquaintance  ripened  into  a  sort  of 
friendship. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  vocal  on  all  matters  which  held 
her  interest.  She  was  always  happy,  but,  from  the  fact 
that  she  was  almost  always  talking,  it  might  be  inferred 
that  her  happiness  depended  upon  her  constant  speech. 
It  might  also  be  argued  that  she  talked  continually 
because  she  was  always  happy.  But  that  would  be 
quibbling,  and  quibbling  about  a  matter  of  the  utmost 
unimportance.  At  all  events,  it  was  natural,  in  the 
discourses  to  which  her  husband  was  compelled  to 
listen,  that  the  name  of  Mrs.  Bernstein  should  figure 
frequently. 

At  first,  Hardwick  paid  scant  attention.  His  wife's 
insistent  verbosity  had  schooled  him  to  appear  to  listen 
rather  than  actually  to  consider  the  import  of  her 
speech.  But  iteration,  even  when  our  interest  is  not 
actively  engaged,  is  bound  to  attract  attention.  The 
constant  recurrence  of  the  name  of  Bernstein  at  last 
moved  him  to  mention  the  coincidence  one  evening 
when  they  were  sitting  in  the  dining  room  while  their 
daughters  were  washing  the  dishes.  It  was  the  maid's 
night  out. 

"I  wonder  if  she's  related  to  Ruth  Bernstein,  my 
assistant?"  he  asked. 

"She  may  very  well  be,"  answered  Mrs.  Hardwick, 
"the  name  is  rather  uncommon." 


140  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  don't  think  it's  uncommon  among  Jews,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Hardwick,  as  usual,  was  not  listening  to  him. 

"Coming  to  think  of  it,"  she  said,  "Mrs.  Bernstein 
did  mention  that  she  had  a  daughter  who  was  employed 
in  some  business  or  other.  It  might  very  well  be  that 
your  assistant  is  her  daughter.  What  sort  of  a  girl  is 
she?" 

"She's  a  mighty  good  looking  girl  for  one  thing. 
She's  neither  dark  nor  fair — " 

"Oh!  I  don't  mean  her  looks.  Of  what  possible 
importance  do  you  think  that  can  be?  What  I  wished 
to  know  was  her  mental  quality  and  attainments,  her 
intellectuality." 

"She's  damned  clever  at  her  work,"  answered 
Hardwick. 

"Henry,"  expostulated  his  wife  with  an  indulgent 
severity,  "can  you  never  learn  to  eschew  vulgar  expres 
sions?  To  me  they  represent  nothing  but  a  complete 
bankruptcy  of  accurate,  forceful  diction.  You  say 
'damned  clever.'  Do  you  suppose  that  carries  half  the 
emphasis  that  would  be  contributed  by  the  expression 
'undeniably  efficient  in  the  discharge  of  her  duties'?" 

Henry  did  not  answer.  He  knew  it  would  be  of  no 
use.  Mrs.  Hardwick  continued: 

"I  make  no  doubt  that  she  is  a  young  woman  of 
both  quality  and  attainments,  if  I  may  judge  from  the 
impression  that  her  mother  has  made  upon  me.  'Bon 
chien  chasse  de  race  is  a  proverb  which  is  founded  upon 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  141 

a  most  accurate  observation  of  humanity."  Mrs. 
Hardwick  felt  that  she  had  made  a  fine  period  and 
beamed  upon  her  husband,  looking  for  the  admiration 
which  she  felt  that  she  had  earned. 

Hardwick,  who  was  thinking  of  something  else, 
smiled  his  approval.  He  did  not  care  to  confess  his 
ignorance  of  the  meaning  of  the  French  proverb 
although  Mrs.  Hardwick  knew  very  well  that  he  did 
not  understand  the  language.  After  a  suitable  pause,  she 
continued: 

"Mrs.  Bernstein  is  one  of  the  sweetest  little  women 
I  have  ever  met.  She  has  beautiful  manners;  she  never 
pushes  herself  forward,  depending  rather  upon  the 
knowledge  that  the  perfect  correction  of  her  manner 
will  win  the  approval  of  the  judicious.  If  there  is  one 
thing  which  I  despise  more  than  another,  it  is  forward 
ness,  the  vulgar  pushing  of  one's  self  to  the  fore  regard 
less  of  merit.  It  is  the  absence  of  this  disagreeable  trait 
which  I  so  much  admire  in  Mrs.  Bernstein.  I  have  made 
her  my  friend  and  I  hope  to  become  quite  intimate  with 
her,  even  outside  of  the  Red  Cross." 

"But  she's  a  Jew,  isn't  she?"  asked  Hardwick,  and 
without  waiting  for  an  answer,  went  on:  "We  don't 
want  to  associate  with  Jews." 

"And  why  not,  pray?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardwick  rather 
indignantly.  "What  is  the  basis  of  your  dislike  of  Jews? 
I  call  it  a  mere  vulgar  prejudice  of  the  very  sort  which 
Wells  defines  so  accurately  in  'The  Research  Magnif 
icent.'  " 


142  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Call  it  a  prejudice,  if  you  like,"  answered  Hardwick, 
"but  I've  got  it." 

"Henry,  I  marvel  at  you.  A  man  who  has  the  least 
pretension  to  mentality  should  be  above  prejudice  of 
any  kind.  However,"  she  went  on,  "in  this  case  I  shall 
not  let  your  ideas  affect  me.  I  shall  not  be  deterred 
from  forming  a  valuable  friendship  by  your  mediaeval 
views."  Mrs.  Hardwick,  it  may  be  observed,  never  let 
her  husband's  views  upon  any  subject  affect  any  action 
which  she  contemplated.  Her  pronouncement  in  this 
case  was  just  so  much  more  vocal  pleasure. 

Hardwick  got  up  from  the  table  and  went  into  the 
cluttered-up  living  room.  He  picked  up  the  evening 
paper  and  had  just  become  interested  in  an  article, 
when  his  wife  came  into  the  room,  her  knitting  materials 
in  her  hands,  and  seated  herself  near  him.  She  was  not 
silent  long. 

"Henry,  my  dear,"  she  said,  her  tone  again  unctuous 
as  usual,  "you  did  not  answer  my  question  as  to  Miss 
Bernstein's  intellectual  quality." 

Hardwick  was  deep  in  the  article  he  was  reading  and 
heard  her  question  without  taking  in  its  import. 

"What's  that?"  he  asked. 

"I  remarked  that  you  had  failed  to  answer  the  ques 
tion  I  put  to  you  concerning  Miss  Bernstein's  intel 
lectuality.  If  she's  at  all  like  her  mother,  I  have  no 
doubt  of  it.  What  did  you  say  her  name  was?" 

"Ruth.  How  do  you  know  the  woman  you've  met  is 
the  mother  of  the  girl  in  the  office?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  143 

"The  coincidence  is  far  too  striking  to  permit  any 
other  hypothesis.  As  I  remarked  before,  the  name  of 
Bernstein  is  uncommon,  the  Mrs.  Bernstein  I  met  has 
a  daughter  engaged  in  some  commercial  pursuit;  you 
have  a  young  woman  in  your  office  of  that  name.  That 
makes  it  a  perfectly  clear  case.  Well,  I  was  saying  to 
your  assistant's  mother  that  I  found  it  difficult,  at  the 
Red  Cross,  to  undertake  a  real  conversation  and  that  I 
hoped  she  would  come  to  see  me  some  afternoon  when 
she  was  disengaged.  In  fact,  I  went  further;  I  offered  to 
call  on  her  if  the  opportunity  presented  itself.  She  was 
very  sweet  about  it  and  expressed  the  greatest  pleasure 
at  the  prospect  of  becoming  better  acquainted." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  want  to  be  fussing  about  with 
people  like  that,"  remarked  Hardwick,  and  resumed  the 
reading  of  the  paper.  Her  husband's  words  and  his  lack 
of  interest  in  her  talk  as  evidenced  by  his  absorption 
in  the  newspaper  spurred  Mrs.  Hardwick  to  throw 
down  the  gage  of  battle. 

"You  don't  see  why  I  fuss,  I  believe  'fuss'  is  the  word 
you  used,  with  'people  like  that;'  I  believe  I  quote  you 
accurately;  well,  you  may  be  able  to  see  the  reason  for 
it,  because  I  shall  have  Mrs.  Bernstein  and  her  daughter 
here  for  dinner  on  Wednesday  next."  Mrs.  Hardwick 
delivered  herself  of  this  remark  in  a  most  bellicose 
tone;  she  appeared  to  wish  that  he  would  oppose  her. 

"Have  her  here  if  you  wish,"  answered  Hardwick, 
"and  all  of  her  relatives  too,  but  I  won't  come  home 
to  dinner  that  evening.  I'll  stay  in  town." 


144  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Oh!  No,  you  won't,"  answered  Mrs.  Hardwick  with 
conviction.  "You'll  come  home  just  as  usual  and  you'll 
behave  exactly  as  you  would  with  any  other  guests  we 
might  entertain.  I  have  no  fear  of  your  undertaking  to 
hold  me  up  to  ridicule  hi  that  way.  When  I  invited 
Mrs.  Bernstein  to  dine  here,"  Mrs.  Hardwick  either 
forgot  or  wilfully  ignored  the  fact  that  she  had  had  no 
intention  of  asking  the  Bernsteins  to  dinner  until 
Henry  had  shown  his  antagonism  to  them.  "When  I 
invited  Mrs.  Bernstein  to  dine  here,"  she  repeated, 
"I  had  expressly  in  mind  the  thought  that  you  would 
be  delighted  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  so  superior  a 
woman.  You  will  be  at  home  without  doubt;  your 
opposition  is  the  merest  childishness." 

And  Hardwick,  although  he  did  not  answer,  knew 
that  she  was  right. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MRS.  BERNSTEIN  demurred  at  accepting 
Mrs.  Hardwick's  invitation  to  dinner,  par 
ticularly  because  Ruth  was  included.  It 
would  have  been  very  easy  to  decline  on  the  score  of 
unwillingness  to  leave  the  latter  alone,  but  it  was 
even  more  difficult  to  accept  for  her.  Mrs.  Bernstein 
was  well  aware  that  to  accept  for  Ruth  would  call  for 
some  protest  on  the  part  of  that  young  woman  and, 
therefore,  she  hesitated.  But  Mrs.  Bernstein's  hesitation 
was  not  considered  by  Mrs.  Hardwick.  To  her  it  was 
only  a  delay,  longer  or  shorter  according  to  her  mood. 
In  this  case  she  allowed  it  to  be  rather  longer  than 
usual  because  she  really  was  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Bern 
stein  and  her  one  great  manner  of  showing  her  affection 
was  to  allow  her  friend  the  opportunity  to  say  a  few 
words.  She  did  this  unconsciously,  of  course,  for, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  no  idea 
that  she  talked  much  and  would  have  resented  the 
imputation  most  vigorously. 

After  Mrs.  Bernstein  had  made  her  few  objections, 
Mrs.  Hardwick  took  it  for  granted  that  the  invitation 
was  accepted  and  said  so  with  the  utmost  definiteness. 
She  had  not  even  deigned  to  answer  the  objections. 
Mrs.  Bernstein  really  wished  to  go,  her  only  fear  in 

145 


146  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

the  whole  matter  was  the  impending  discussion  with 
her  daughter. 

However,  that  discussion  came  to  its  inevitable  end, 
and  on  Wednesday  evening  the  two  Bernstein  ladies 
presented  themselves  at  the  Hardwick  house.  The 
door  was  opened  by  Marian,  who  introduced  herself 
promptly  and  in  a  manner  that  charmed  both  of  the 
visitors.  That  was  their  first  impression  and  it  was  most 
favorable.  The  second  was  made  by  the  furnishing  of 
Mrs.  Hardwick's  hall.  This  left  them  almost  breathless. 
Ruth,  in  particular,  could  not  permit  her  glance  to 
rest  upon  any  one  feature  of  the  dreadful  conglomera 
tion;  other  features  constantly  encroached  upon  her 
field  of  vision  and  attracted  her  attention.  During  the 
two  minutes  which  elapsed  before  the  appearance  of 
their  hostess,  Ruth's  eyes  traveled  round  and  round 
the  room  with  the  result  that  she  was  almost  bewildered. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  greeted  her  guests  effusively.  She 
was  quite  ready,  metaphorically,  to  take  her  friend's 
daughter  to  her  arms  without  any  test.  She  apologized 
for  "dear  Henry's"  delay  in  appearing,  setting  it  down 
to  his  late  return  from  the  office.  At  length,  he  came 
down  stairs,  attired  in  a  dinner  jacket,  and  greeted  Ruth 
as  an  old  friend,  while  he  acknowledged  the  introduction 
to  her  mother  courteously.  The  latter  made  a  distinctly 
favorable  impression.  Indeed,  she  looked  very  well  this 
evening,  having  gone  to  some  trouble  in  the  matter  of 
her  dress. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  147 

Until  they  were  summoned  to  the  table,  the  talk, 
mostly  from  the  mouth  of  the  hostess,  had  for  its  object 
the  establishment  of  sufficient  reciprocal  knowledge 
to  permit  of  general  conversation.  Mrs.  Hardwick 
explained  to  her  husband  who  the  Bernsteins  were, 
repeating  various  items  which  she  had  learned  from  the 
elder,  and  to  the  guests  she  told  what  she  felt  necessary 
of  her  own  family.  She  dwelt  upon  her  regret  at  Alice's 
absence  at  college.  She  was  sure  that  it  would  be  a 
keen  disappointment  to  her  not  to  have  been  at  home 
on  this  most  auspicious  occasion. 

At  table  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  Mrs.  Bernstein  on  her 
right  and  Marian  on  her  left.  Hardwick  sat  between 
Mrs.  Bernstein  and  Ruth.  The  meal  began  with  rather 
disjointed  conversation.  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  busy 
giving  orders  in  stage  whispers  to  her  little  incompetent 
maid,  who,  although  she  had  been  most  carefully 
instructed  as  to  her  duties,  completely  forgot  every 
thing  she  had  been  told  when  it  was  most  important 
that  she  should  remember. 

The  meal  was  most  generous  in  quantity  and  nig 
gardly  in  quality.  In  fact,  the  food  was  poorly  cooked 
and  execrably  served.  But  politeness  is  stronger  than 
appetite  and  makes  us  eat  in  company  what  we  would 
reject  when  alone.  The  inferior  quality  of  the  food, 
however,  served  the  purpose  of  restoring  Mrs.  Bern 
stein's  aplomb  by  removing  much  of  the  awe  which 
she  felt  in  Mrs.  Hardwick's  presence.  She  knew  that  in 


148  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

this  particular,  at  least,  she  was  the  superior  of  her 
hostess.  Mrs.  Hardwick,  on  the  other  hand,  was  per 
fectly  delighted  with  her  dinner  and  was  sure  that  her 
guests  must  be  impressed  by  this  additional  proof  of 
her  complete  versatility. 

When  the  meal  was  well  under  way,  the  hostess  began 
what  was  intended  as  general  conversation,  but  which 
was  directed  principally  at  Mrs.  Bernstein.  She  seized 
upon  some  totally  irrelevant  remark  to  call  attention 
to  her  literary  work. 

"It  is  just  as  I  wrote  in  my  essay  on  Rousseau  in 
the  University  Magazine.  You  have  seen  it,  I  believe," 
she  said,  with  a  smirk,  looking  directly  at  her  guest  on 
the  right.  "It  is  a  pity  that  a  publication  of  such  pre 
eminent  quality  should  have  so  limited  a  circulation. 
I  suppose,  however,  that  it  is  scarcely  to  be  expected 
to  interest  the  hoi  polloi,  it  is  rather  'caviare  to  the 
general.'  The  number  of  those  who  are  interested  in  the 
purely  intellectual  is  bound  to  be  restricted.  I  am 
convinced  that  an  effort  should  be  made  to  bring  erudite 
thought  to  a  larger  audience  and  it  appears  to  me  that 
the  surest  avenue  is  the  daily  newspaper.  To  that  end 
I  am  writing  a  series  of  articles,"  and  so  on. 

Mrs.  Bernstein  was  spellbound  by  the  fluency  of  her 
hostess.  She  was  not  much  interested  in  the  higher 
education  of  the  people,  beginning  with  herself,  but  she 
was  seized  with  the  desire  for  expression  and,  at  the  first 
pause  for  breath  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Hardwick,  she 
opened  upon  her  favorite  topic. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  149 

"It's  remarkable,  Mrs.  Hard  wick,"  she  said,  "how  a 
woman  with  a  family  should  find  time  to  do  so  much. 
I  wouldn't  have  the  strength.  Indeed,  for  more  than  a 
year  I  have  been  feeling  miserable  all  of  the  time.  I 
awake  in  the  morning  with  a  feeling  of  intense  depres 
sion.  I  feel  just  as  though  it  is  going  to  be  impossible 
for  me  to  get  out  of  bed.  Ruth  can  tell  you  how  many 
mornings  in  the  week  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  her 
to  give  me  my  breakfast  in  bed.  It's  hard  on  her,  I 
know,  but — " 

But  Mrs.  Hardwick  could  wait  no  longer. 

"  It  is  a  puzzle  to  me  how  I  do  manage  to  get  so  much 
done,"  she  said  with  unconcealed  pride,  "but  I  do  get 
it  done.  I  suppose  it  is  simply  by  the  exercise  of  an 
indomitable  will  power.  I  have  always  been  like  that. 
My  ambition  is  simply  relentless,  it  gives  me  no  rest. 
Early  in  my  married  life,  I  determined  that  I  should 
devote  a  part  of  each  day  to  intellectual  pursuits,  and  I 
have  held  to  that  resolution  implacably.  And  I  have 
done  it  without  allowing  my  household  to  suffer,  the 
health  of  the  children  is  ample  evidence  of  that.  I  have 
always  chosen  to  care  for  them  myself;  it  is  a  charge  by 
much  too  sacred  to  be  put  in  the  hands  of  servants.  In 
that  respect,  I  have  always  sacrificed  myself  to  whatever 
extent  was  necessary  and  I  do  not  regret  it."  She  paused 
for  the  admiration  to  which  she  felt  herself  entitled,  but 
Mrs.  Bernstein  saw  another  opportunity  and  held  forth. 

"I  always  enjoyed  good  health  until  last  year.  Ruth 


150  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

can  tell  you  how  vigorous  and  active  I  always  have  been. 
But  in  the  last  year  my  whole  life  has  changed.  You 
cannot  imagine  the  misery  I  have  suffered.  Only  the 
other  day,  I  remarked  to  my  sister-in-law,  Mr.  Bern 
stein's  sister,  Mrs.  Elias,  you  may  have  heard  of  her  or, 
at  least,  of  her  husband,  he's  a  member  of  the  firm  of 
Price,  Elias  and  Company,  manufacturers  of  underwear. 
I  was  saying  to  her — " 

"Price,  Elias  and  Company,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Hard- 
wick.  "Of  course  I  have  heard  of  them.  They  have  an 
office  on  Market  street.  And  isn't  Mrs.  Price  a  constant 
attendant  at  the  University  Extension  Lectures?  I  have 
met  her  there.  I  spoke  to  her  about  my  workone'day  and 
sent  her  a  copy  of  the  magazine  containing  my  article. 
She  was  good  enough  to  give  it  the  warmest  praise. 
I'm  sure  she  would  be  much  interested  in  a  little  mono 
graph  I  am  writing  at  present  on  Fielding.  I  hope  to 
arouse  an  interest  hi  the  father  of  the  modern  English 
novel  which  will  open  his  pages  to  a  new  host  of  enthu 
siastic  readers." 

Mrs.  Bernstein's  knowledge  of  Fielding  was  confined 
strictly  to  what  she  had  just  heard  from  Mrs.  Hard- 
wick's  lips.  Slight  as  this  knowledge  was,  it  contented 
her.  Besides,  she  was  interested  in  another  subject. 

"I  was  saying  to  my  sister-in-law  only  the  other  day 
that  it  seemed  as  though  it  was  impossible  to  find  a  doc 
tor  who  would  really  understand  my  case.  My  regular 
doctor  makes  no  effort  to  find  out  what  is  the  matter 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  151 

with  me.  He  simply  pooh-poohs  everything  I  say  to  him. 
He  gives  me  medicine  that  doesn't  do  me  a  bit  of  good. 
I  know  that  because  I  forgot  to  take  it  twice  in  succes 
sion  and  I  didn't  feel  one  bit  worse.  I  have  been  thinking 
of  making  a  change  and  a  friend  of  ours  recommended 
that  I  consult  Dr.  Franklin.  Do  you  know  anything 
about  him?" 

"  Oh !  Yes.  He  is  said  to  be  very  good.  He  is  the  brother 
of  the  writer,  James  L.  Franklin,  who  writes  the  most 
charming  essays  on  literary  and  other  subjects.  Do  you 
find  time  for  reading?"  she  asked,  turning  to  Ruth. 

"Not  as  much  as  I  would  like  to,"  she  answered. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  thereupon  opened  the  floodgates  upon 
Ruth  and  talked  to  her  almost  continuously  during  the 
rest  of  the  meal.  Mrs.  Bernstein  consequently  seized 
upon  Hardwick  and  treated  him  to  a  lengthy  discourse 
upon  her  ills  which  would  have  bored  him  exceedingly 
if  he  had  been  compelled  to  pay  close  attention  to  her 
words.  This,  however,  was  entirely  unnecessary,  as  Mrs. 
Bernstein  did  not  listen  to  the  occasional  monosyllables 
which  he  felt  that  duty  compelled.  Indeed,  by  mistake, 
he  once  said  "no"  when  the  obvious  reply  was  "yes," 
but  she  did  not  notice  it. 

After  dinner,  they  sat  in  the  hall  and  Mrs.  Hardwick 
furnished  not  only  most  of  the  talk  but  the  subject  as 
well.  Her  digestion  was  most  remarkable  not  merely 
because  of  the  kind  of  food  which  it  assimilated  but  also 
because  it  functioned  in  spite  of  her  constant  verbal 


152  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

activity.  Hardwick  was  used  to  her  volubility  and  did 
not  mind  it  as  far  as  his  own  comfort  was  concerned. 
He  knew  that  there  was  no  use  in  waiting  for  her  to  run 
down  because  she  scarcely  ever  did  that.  He  wanted  to 
talk  to  Ruth.  This  was  his  first  opportunity  in  the  three 
months  he  had  known  her  and  he  determined  to  make 
use  of  it.  While  the  stream  of  his  wife's  speech  flowed  on 
undammed  he  pondered  upon  an  opening  for  a  talk  with 
Ruth. 

She  was  sitting  on  the  davenport  with  Marian,  while 
all  of  the  others  were  seated  on  chairs.  Presently  Hard- 
wick  stood  up  and  then  walked  over  to  the  davenport 
and  sat  down  beside  her.  In  a  low  tone,  so  as  not  to 
break  into  his  wife's  discourse,  he  asked  her  playfully: 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  little  good-for-nothing?" 
indicating  Marian. 

"I  wouldn't  care  to  tell  you  in  her  presence,"  she 
answered  smiling. 

"Shall  I  go  away?"  said  Marian,  entering  into  the 
spirit  of  play. 

"Oh!  No,"  answered  her  father.  "Stay,  you  know 
listeners  never  hear  any  good  of  themselves." 

"We'll  make  this  an  exception,"  said  Ruth.  "I  think 
she's  a  very  lovely  little  girl,  or  perhaps  I  had  better 
say  'young  lady.'" 

"Oh!  I'm  no  young  lady,"  cried  Marian,  "Allie's  the 
young  lady  of  the  family." 

"There'll  be  plenty  of  time  for  that  later,"  said  Hard- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  153 

wick  to  both  of  them,  and  then,  addressing  Ruth,  "Are 
you  fond  of  children?" 

"Very,"  she  answered,  "but  I  get  little  opportunity 
to  meet  them.  Our  only  relatives  in  the  city  are  my  aunt 
and  uncle,  and  their  children  are  really  grown  up." 

"Do  you  go  out  much?"  inquired  Hardwick.  His 
interest  was  quite  keen,  he  had  always  wanted  to  know 
more  about  her. 

"  Very  little,"  she  replied. "  Usually  when  I  come  home 
from  the  office,  I'm  too  tired  to  want  to  do  anything. 
Besides,  we  don't  keep  a  maid  and  I  have  most  of  the 
housework  to  do  in  the  evening."  She  spoke  straight 
forwardly;  there  was  no  plea  for  sympathy  in  her  tone, 
she  did  not  seem  to  consider  her  lot  at  all  extraordinary. 

"But  there  must  be  some  young  men,  or  perhaps  one 
young  man." 

"Strange  to  say,  there  isn't  even  one,"  she  replied, 
smilingly. 

"You'll  never  get  me  to  believe  that,"  he  said,  ban- 
teringly,  "it's  impossible  that  there  are  not  some  aspir 
ants  for  your  favor." 

"If  there  are,  they  haven't  informed  me  of  their 
aspirations." 

"What  do  you  do  for  enjoyment?  You  must  do  some 
thing." 

"  Well,  sometimes  we  go  to  the  theatre  or  to  a  concert." 

"You  must  be  musical.  Most — "  he  was  going  to  say 
"Jews,"  but  he  thought  that  a  term  of  reproach,  so  he 


154  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

avoided  the  word,  and,  after  a  barely  perceptible  pause, 
added  "young  ladies  are.  Do  you  play?" 

"No,"  she  answered.  "I  took  a  few  lessons  while  my 
father  was  living,  but,  after  his  death,  we  couldn't 
afford  it,  so  I  had  to  give  it  up." 

"I  can't  get  it  into  my  head  that  there  shouldn't  be 
any  young  men.  It  doesn't  seem  natural.  Don't  you 
know  any?" 

"Of  course  I  know  some,  but,  really,  they  don't 
interest  me." 

"What's  the  matter  with  them?" 

"I  really  couldn't  tell  you.  They  just  don't  interest 
me  and  I  guess  I  don't  interest  them  either." 

"I  don't  believe  that.  It  isn't  natural.  I  believe  there 
is  someone  and  you  don't  want  to  admit  it." 

Ruth  was  silent.  Her  expression,  which  had  been 
most  pleasant,  now  took  on  a  more  serious  air.  Hardwick 
noticed  it  and,  suddenly,  there  came  to  him  a  recol 
lection  of  Miss  Henderson's  remark  concerning  Pem- 
berton's  interest  hi  Ruth.  He  wondered  if,  after  all, 
there  might  not  be  something  in  the  girl's  gossip.  With 
the  idea  of  getting  some  light  on  this  subject,  he  turned 
the  talk  to  the  office. 

"I  suppose  you're  so  wrapped  up  in  your  work  at  the 
office  that  you  haven't  any  mind  for  social  pleasures?" 
he  said  questioningly. 

"Oh!  I  don't  know.  It's  awfully  interesting  though." 

"Did  you  ever  have  any  other  position?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  155 

"No,  this  is  my  first  and  only." 

"Were  you  there  before  Mr.  Pemberton  came?" 

"Yes,  nearly  two  years." 

"Did  he  make  many  changes?" 

"I  should  say  so,"  she  answered  enthusiastically. 

"He's  all  business,  isn't  he?" 

"At  the  office,  surely." 

"Why,  have  you  ever  met  him  socially?" 

Ruth  was  vexed.  She  did  not  want  to  admit  that  there 
was  any  intimacy  between  her  and  Pemberton  nor  was 
she  willing  to  lie  about  it.  She  knew  she  could  change 
the  subject  and  that  Hardwick's  politeness  would  keep 
him  from  pressing  a  question  which,  evidently,  she  did 
not  wish  to  answer,  but  that  would  be  a  tacit  admission. 
She  determined  to  cut  off  further  inquiries  of  this  nature 
and  said  in  a  tone  which  she  intentionally  made  matter- 
of-fact: 

"Of  course  I've  met  him  socially  on  several  occasions, 
but  he  has  no  interest  in  social  matters.  He  lives  for  his 
work  and  its  quality  shows  how  much  it  is  to  him.  He's 
a  self-made  man.  He  came  here  from  the  West  practi 
cally  unknown,  and  today  there's  nobody  in  the  line 
who  hasn't  heard  of  him.  Don't  you  think  he's  a  splendid 
man  to  work  for?" 

Hardwick  agreed  and  they  went  on  to  talk  of  business 
only.  Ruth  took  good  care  not  to  offer  him  another 
opening.  Their  further  talk  was  of  short  duration, 
however,  for  Mrs.  Hardwick  wanted  a  listener  who  was 


156  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

content  with  a  silent  role,  and  Mrs.  Bernstein  insisted 
on  talking  whenever  she  had  an  opportunity  or,  rather, 
whenever  she  could  make  one.  Ruth  was  quite  content 
to  listen  to  her  hostess  without  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  conversation;  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say, 
without  unduly  interrupting  that  lady's  soliloquy.  And 
Hardwick,  thus  thrown  again  into  the  current  of  Mrs. 
Bernstein's  stream  of  narrated  ills,  kept  himself  afloat 
as  best  he  could. 

At  nine-thirty  the  guests  departed  after  an  exchange 
of  courtesies  usual  under  the  circumstances.  As  they 
walked  down  the  street,  Mrs.  Bernstein  asked: 

"What  did  you  think  of  Mrs.  Hardwick?  Isn't  she 
awfully  clever?" 

"I  don't  know  whether  she's  clever  or  not,  but  I  must 
say  that  she's  a  woman  who  would  be  very  interesting 
to  anyone  who  was  interested  in  her  pet  subject." 

"Her  pet  subject!  Why,  what's  that?"  asked  Mrs. 
Bernstein,  mystified. 

"Herself.  She  never  talks  about  anything  else  and 
she  talks  about  that  incessantly.  I've  never  met  a 
worse  bore." 

"Ruth!  How  can  you  say  so?" 

"I  pity  her  poor  husband.  Think  of  having  that 
every  day  in  the  week,  every  week  in  the  year.  And  that 
poor,  lovely  child.  Did  you  ever  see  anyone  less  becom 
ingly  dressed?  And  what  did  you  think  of  the  dinner? 
Ugh!" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  157 

"The  dinner  wasn't  very  good,"  admitted  Mrs.  Bern 
stein,  "but  you  see  she's  a  very  intellectual  woman 
and  probably  doesn't  bother  about  ordinary  domestic 
affairs.  I  really  think  she's  very  brilliant." 

Meanwhile  their  hosts  were  discussing  them.  Mrs. 
Hardwick  was  delighted.  She  was  filled  with  the  con 
sciousness  of  having  entertained,  not  magnificently,  but 
well  as  regards  the  material  aspect  and  munificently 
otherwise — "a  real  feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul" 
as  she  expressed  it  to  her  husband. 

"It's  really  a  kindness  to  entertain  people  like  that," 
she  said  as  she  undressed.  "They  never  go  anywhere 
and  never  meet  any  people,  certainly  not  intellectual 
people.  Mrs.  Bernstein  is  a  lovely  woman  and  her 
daughter  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  girls  I  have  ever 
met.  Her  views  on  every  subject  which  the  brief 
opportunity  at  my  disposal  enabled  me  to  bring  up 
showed  the  soundest  reasoning.  I  hope  to  be  of  great 
service  to  her.  I  shall  suggest  instructive,  interesting 
books  for  her  and  then  I  shall  discuss  them  with  her, 
thus  arousing  and  stimulating  her  liking  for  profitable 
literature."  And  much,  much  more  in  the  same  strain. 

Hardwick  did  not  answer.  He  would  have  enjoyed 
expressing  his  opinion  of  Mrs.  Bernstein's  continuous 
recital  of  her  maladies  and  the  boredom  he  had  suffered, 
but  he  knew  that  it  would  cause  his  wife  to  rush  to  the 
defense  of  her  new  friend  and  thus  compel  his  attention 
when  he  wished  to  use  it  to  consider  a  matter  which 
had  occurred  to  him. 


158  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Hardwick  was  now  confident  that  Pemberton  and 
Ruth  were  at  least  intimate  friends.  He  could  not  have 
given  a  satisfactory  reason  for  his  belief,  but  it  was  not 
the  less  certain  on  that  account.  While  he  was  thinking 
of  this  relationship  between  the  two  people  with  whom 
his  business  brought  him  most  closely  into  contact, 
he  was  suddenly  seized  by  the  consciousness  that  he 
had  not  been  holding  to  his  original  determination  to 
make  a  great  success  of  this  position.  And  no  one 
could  be  more  fully  aware  of  his  dereliction  than  Ruth. 
He  was  conscience-stricken,  at  least  that  was  how  he 
would  have  described  it.  Actually,  he  was  seized  by 
the  fear  of  being  found  out  and  in  the  semi-panic  which 
was  usual  with  him  when  some  disagreeable  idea  con 
trolled  him,  he  resolved  that  he  would  forthwith  mend 
his  ways  and  exhibit  the  same  interest  and  activity  in 
his  work  which  had  marked  it  at  the  beginning. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

UNDER  the  spell  of  his  re-born  resolution, 
Hardwick  arrived  at  the  office  very  early  the 
next  morning  and  was  seated  at  his  desk, 
going  over  his  mail,  when  Ruth  came  in.  Her  pleasant 
greeting  indicated  none  of  the  surprise  which  his 
unusual  punctuality  occasioned  her,  and  the  greeting 
accomplished,  she  took  off  her  hat  and  jacket  and  began 
her  work.  Presently,  he  called  her  and  asked: 

"When  do  you  usually  begin  work  on  the  annual 
catalogue?" 

"Let  me  see,"  she  said,  trying  to  recall  the  matter 
to  her  mind,  "Oh!  yes.  Last  year  we  put  the  copy  in 
the  printer's  hands  in  the  first  week  of  October.  I  think 
you'll  find  a  memorandum  of  it  in  the  slip  I  gave  you 
on  the  first  of  September."  This  was  the  second  week 
in  October. 

"When  do  we  mail  it?"  he  asked. 

"The  first  week  of  the  new  year,  usually.  But  it 
doesn't  have  to  be  out  quite  so  early  as  that,  the  second 
or  third  week  would  do  as  well." 

"I'd  like  to  go  over  the  matter  with  you  this 
morning." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Hardwick.  Now?" 

"No,  when  I  am  through  with  my  mail."  He  turned 
back  to  his  work  and  Ruth  went  to  her  desk.  Hardwick 

159 


160  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

was  all  business  this  morning.  He  was  delighted  to  find 
that  his  mind  worked  with  precision,  rapidly.  He  took 
a  distinct  pleasure  in  the  consciousness  of  his  energy, 
and  wondered  vaguely  how  he  could  ever  have  been 
content  to  be  so  slothful  as  he  had  been  for  the  past 
month  or  more.  When  he  had  collected  the  necessary 
data,  he  called  for  Miss  Henderson  to  take  dictation. 

She  came  over  to  him,  gave  him  a  friendly  nod  and  a 
"good  morning"  and  sat  down,  ready  for  the  persiflage 
which  usually  preceded  the  work  they  did  together. 
The  sight  of  her  recalled  the  first  intimation  that  had 
been  given  him  of  Pemberton's  interest  in  Ruth.  Now 
that,  in  his  mind,  the  suspicion  had  been  confirmed, 
he  was  strongly  tempted  to  mention  the  subject  in  some 
way  so  that  he  might  learn  if  Miss  Henderson  had  any 
thing  to  add  to  her  previous  information.  But,  in  his 
new  zeal  for  work,  he  put  this  temptation  aside,  and, 
almost  brusquely,  began  his  dictation.  Miss  Henderson 
wondered,  but  made  no  comment  until  he  was  com 
pelled  to  pause  in  order  to  verify  some  data.  Then  she 
said: 

"  You're  sure  on  the  rush  this  A.  M.  What's  the  hurry? 
Going  to  catch  a  train?" 

Ordinarily,  neither  the  words  nor  the  manner  of  easy 
familiarity  would  have  annoyed  him.  But  this  morning 
they  did,  for  they  were  definite  evidence  of  the  lightness 
with  which  he  had  considered  the  responsibilities  of  his 
position.  He  wished  he  had  not  made  himself  liable  to 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  161 

this  sort  of  thing  and  that  he  might  reprove  her  for  her 
impertinence.  But  he  could  not.  He  saw  only  too  clearly 
that  it  was  he  who  was  to  blame  for  it,  and  not  the  girl, 
and  to  take  her  to  task  would  but  give  her  an  opportunity 
to  make  him  very  uncomfortable.  With  these  thoughts 
in  his  mind,  he  did  not  answer  her,  but  went  through  the 
pages  of  his  memorandum  book,  looking  for  the  refer 
ence  which  he  needed.  Miss  Henderson  knew  very  well 
that  he  had  heard  her,  and  took  his  silence  as  evidence 
of  ill  humor. 

"You're  awful  grouchy  this  morning.  Did  you  get 
out  of  the  wrong  side  of  the  bed?" 

Hardwick  smiled,  as  if  in  appreciation  of  the  humor 
of  her  remark,  but  made  no  reply.  He  had  now  found 
the  information  which  he  wished,  and  said: 

"Just  make  that  three  hundred  and  fifty  instead  of 
three  hundred." 

Miss  Henderson  saw  that  he  was  not  willing  to  accept 
their  ordinary  relationship,  and,  wondering,  set  to  work. 

When  all  of  the  letters  had  been  dictated,  he  called 
Ruth,  and  together  they  discussed  the  catalogue  with  a 
copy  of  it  before  them.  It  was  a  very  ordinary  affair, 
well  printed,  with  good  illustrations  of  the  common 
place  kind.  As  they  went  over  it,  principally  for  the 
purpose  of  arranging  a  programme  for  the  compilation 
of  the  copy  by  the  sales  manager  and  his  subordinates, 
an  idea  suddenly  occurred  to  Hardwick. 

"Say,"  he  said,  "do  we  have  to  get  out  this  kind  of  a 
book?" 


162  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked,  surprised.  "Do  you 
mean  do  we  have  to  get  out  a  catalogue?" 

"Oh!  I  know  we  have  to  get  out  a  catalogue  of  some 
sort.  But  are  we  compelled  to  put  out  a  dull,  unimagi 
native  thing  like  this;  just  what  everybody  else  does?" 

"I  don't  think  I  understand." 

"It's  just  this.  The  ordinary  catalogue  like  this," 
he  said,  holding  it  up  level  with  his  shoulder,  "is  just  a 
reference  book  which  dealers  consult  when  they  need 
information.  And  usually,  when  they  have  done  that, 
unless  it's  a  most  ordinary  inquiry,  they  have  to  write 
to  us  to  learn  what  they  want  to  know.  What  I'd  like  to 
do  is  to  put  out  a  catalogue  that  would  be  actually 
interesting  to  anyone  in  the  line,  the  sort  of  book  that  a 
dealer  would  have  pleasure  in  reading.  I'd  like  to  bring 
out  the  essential  facts  and  figures  in  some  concise,  well- 
ordered  way  that  any  child  could  understand.  And  then, 
I'd  have  real  pictures  of  the  goods,  not  these  mechan 
ically  retouched  affairs  that  look  like  nothing  under 
Heaven,  and  I'd  have  information  about  them  that  the 
dealer  would  be  glad  to  have,  that  would  make  him  look 
at  our  book  first.  In  other  words,  I'd  like  to  make  it  a 
real  'silent  salesman'."  He  was  enthusiastic,  he  pictured 
mentally  the  book  he  would  like  to  make,  vaguely  as  to 
details,  of  course,  and  losing  sight  of  the  immense  diffi 
culty  of  the  undertaking. 

Ruth  was  infected  by  his  enthusiasm. 

"Oh!  That  would  be  splendid,"  she  said  and  asked: 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  163 

"Do  you  think  we  could  do  it?" 

"Sure,"  he  answered  with  conviction.  "Just  leave  me 
for  about  fifteen  minutes  and  I'll  sketch  out  a  sample 
page." 

But  it  was  fully  an  hour  before  he  was  ready  for  her. 
He  had  found  the  task  much  more  difficult  than  he  had 
thought,  but  the  fine  edge  of  his  enthusiasm  was  not 
worn  off  thereby. 

"Do  you  see?"  he  asked  with  pride,  as  she  looked  over 
the  page.  "There's  the  cut.  Of  course,  I  haven't  at 
tempted  to  show  what  I  have  in  mind.  I  have  a  book  in  my 
desk  here  which  has  the  sort  of  illustration  I  want. 
Wait  a  minute,"  and  he  went  through  one  of  the  drawers 
of  his  desk  and  produced  the  thing  he  wished.  He  showed 
it  to  her.  "That's  the  idea,"  he  said. 

"Cuts  like  that  would  be  very  expensive,  wouldn't 
they?"  she  asked. 

"Sure,"  he  answered,  "but  they'd  be  cheap  in  the 
long  run.  They  have  imagination  in  them,  they  make 
the  goods  look  like  things  that  people  really  use.  When 
a  carpenter  saw  one  of  our  braces  in  a  picture  like  that, 
he'd  never  be  content  until  he  owned  one.  That's  the 
purpose  of  a  catalogue  illustration,  not  merely  to  show 
an  accurate  diagram  of  details,  although  that's  impor 
tant  too,  but  to  make  the  person  whom  you're  trying  to 
interest  want  the  thing  he  sees  pictured." 

Ruth  was  immensely  impressed,  both  by  the  origi 
nality  and  excellence  of  the  idea  and  by  the  recrudescence 
of  the  zeal  which  he  had  shown  at  the  beginning. 


164  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  think  it's  wonderful,"  she  said,  "but  do  you  think 
we'll  have  time  enough?" 

"  It'll  mean  a  lot  of  work,  of  course,  but  I'll  answer  for 
that  if  Pemberton'll  stand  for  the  expense." 

"I  don't  think  you'll  have  any  trouble  in  getting  him 
to  0.  K.  the  increased  cost  if  you  can  show  him  that 
you  really  can  get  the  book  out  in  time." 

"  I  can  do  that  all  right.  I  wonder  if  I  could  see  him 
now."  And  in  his  enthusiasm  he  grasped  the  telephone 
receiver  and  asked  the  operator  to  make  the  necessary 
inquiry.  The  answer  came  promptly  to  the  effect  that 
Mr.  Pemberton  would  see  him  in  fifteen  minutes. 

Hardwick  used  this  time  to  make  a  rough  estimate  of 
the  cost  of  producing  the  work  and  was  surprised  to  find 
that  the  book  he  contemplated  would  cost  about  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  as  against  a  cost  of  slightly  less  than 
eleven  thousand  for  the  previous  issue. 

Pemberton  listened  to  his  enthusiastic  outline  of  the 
proposition  with  the  utmost  passivity.  He  allowed 
Hardwick  to  talk  until  he  had  completely  finished.  Then, 
after  a  silence  of  some  seconds,  he  said: 

"You  have  an  excellent  idea  there,  Hardwick.  How 
much  would  it  cost?" 

"Not  over  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  That's  an  outside 
figure.  I  may  very  well  be  able  to  get  it  down  to  about 
fourteen  thousand.  Don't  you  think  it's  worth  the 
difference?" 

"One  thing  at  a  time.  I  don't  believe  you  could  get 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  165 

the  book  out  for  fifteen  thousand.  You'd  better  figure 
seventeen.  Have  you  figured  the  extra  postage?" 

"I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  That'd  add  five  hundred 
dollars." 

"More  like  a  thousand,"  said  Pemberton.  "You'll 
want  to  use  coated  paper,  and  that  means'more  weight." 

"Ten  pounds  to  the  ream  would  do  it." 

"I  don't  think  so.  There's  no  use  going  to  all  this 
expense  and  then  skimping  the  book  for  another  ten 
pounds  to  the  ream." 

"You're  right  there,"  said  Hard  wick,  delighted  at 
Pemberton's  display  of  interest.  "But  that  would  add 
both  to  the  cost  of  the  paper  and  the  mailing  too.  And 
we'd  have  to  use  a  heavier  cover." 

"We'll  have  to  figure  the  cost  at  seventeen  thousand 
at  the  least.  I  don't  mind  that.  But  there's  one  very 
important  aspect  of  the  matter  which  you  seem  to  have 
overlooked." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Hardwick. 

"You'll  have  to  have  an  entirely  new  set  of  illustra 
tions  made.  That's  one  thing  and  it's  a  big  job.  And  the 
whole  catalogue  will  have  to  be  re-written  from  begin 
ning  to  end.  That  will  fall  on  you.  I  don't  believe  you 
can  do  it." 

"Yes  I  can,"  answered  Hardwick,  with  complete 
conviction. 

"Have  you  figured  out  your  time?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Hardwick.  Actually  he  had  not  done 


166  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

so  except  in  the  vaguest  possible  way.  "This  is  Wed 
nesday,  the  tenth  of  October.  Say  we  begin  on  Monday 
next,  that'll  be  the  fifteenth.  I  can  have  practically 
everything  in  the  printer's  hands  in  six  weeks,  say  the 
first  of  December.  By  making  the  arrangement  in 
advance,  we  can  get  the  printer  to  finish  the  work  in 
four  weeks;  that  would  mean  we'd  have  the  books  all  in 
the  mail  before  the  tenth  of  January." 

"That's  all  right  as  far  as  the  printer  goes,  but  you'll 
have  to  make  it  very  plain  to  him  that  we're  not  going 
to  accept  excuses  instead  of  catalogues.  I'm  afraid  that 
the  time  is  too  short." 

"I'll  answer  for  that,"  replied  Hardwick,  confidently. 
"Johnny  Albright  could  do  it  easy." 

"  I'll  admit  that  it's  possible,  but  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  you  can  do  the  preparatory  work  in  six  weeks." 

"I  can  do  it  all  right." 

"  That's  the  question.  Can  you  do  it  right  in  that  time? 
There's  no  use  undertaking  it  at  all  unless  it  can  be  done 
right  in  every  particular.  You  must  be  very  sure  of  your 
self  before  you  undertake  it." 

"I've  thought  it  all  out,"  said  Hardwick.  But  he  bad 
not  done  so.  It  was  his  incorrigible  optimism  which 
blinded  him  to  the  delays  always  incident  to  work  of 
this  kind. 

"Well,  if  you  are  sure,"  said  Pemberton,  slowly,  "I'll 
authorize  you  to  go  ahead.  Think  it  over  again  and 
remember  distinctly  that  by  the  fifteenth  of  January 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  167 

every  one  of  these  catalogues  must  be  in  the  mail.  And 
the  work  must  be  done  right.  This  book  is  worth  while 
and  I  would  be  much  pleased  to  have  it,  but  we  cannot 
afford  to  add  six  thousand  dollars  to  our  expense  and 
then  have  a  half-way  job.  And  we  cannot,  under  any 
consideration,  get  the  book  out  later  than  January 
fifteenth.  I  hope  I  make  that  plain."  He  looked  at 
Hardwick  with  the  greatest  seriousness. 

"I  can  do  it."  said  Hardwick. 

"Well,  think  it  over  again  and  if  on  second  considera 
tion  you  are  sure  that  you  won't  fall  down,  go  ahead. 
But  if  you  have  the  least  doubt  about  it,  you  had  better 
save  it  for  another  year." 

"All  right,"  replied  Hardwick,  delighted.  This  was 
his  chance.  This  would  show  everybody  the  kind  of 
material  of  which  Henry  Wallace  Hardwick  was  made. 
He  saw  the  book  complete;  he  had  in  his  mind  the 
grudging  praise  which  their  competitors  would  be 
compelled  to  render;  he  had  visions  of  increased  salary, 
increased  importance,  success  in  the  highest  degree. 

"It's  a  pity  you  didn't  bring  this  to  me  sooner," 
said  Pemberton.  "How  long  have  you  had  it  in  mind?" 

"It  came  to  me  only  this  morning.  I  was  going  over 
the  catalogue  with  Miss  Bernstein,  with  the  intention 
of  practically  duplicating  last  year's  book,  when  it 
occurred  to  me  that  it  wouldn't  do,  and  then  an  idea 
came  to  me  to  put  into  practice  this  scheme  which  I 
tried  to  sell  to  one  of  my  customers  when  I  was  in  the 


168  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

printing  business.  But  the  man  couldn't  see  the  expense, 
he  hadn't  the  vision.  I'll  say  the  scheme's  all  right, 
even  if  it  is  my  own  idea."  He  ended  in  a  burst  of  pride. 
Pemberton  saw  it  and  wondered  whether  this  was 
merely  a  flash  in  the  pan  or  was  the  expression  of  a 
personal  force  which  had  been  dormant,  awaiting  only 
the  suitable  opportunity  for  its  realization. 

"Think  it  over,"  he  said  again,  "and  come  to  me 
tomorrow."  The  interview  was  at  an  end. 

The  more  Hardwick  thought  about  it,  the  better  he 
liked  the  idea  and  the  surer  he  became  of  his  ability 
to  complete  the  work  in  the  necessary  time.  He  came 
to  Pemberton  the  next  morning  and  assured  him  of 
his  unshaken  confidence  and  received  definite  author 
ization  to  go  ahead. 

At  the  meeting  of  executives  on  the  following  Mon 
day,  the  plan  was  received  with  enthusiasm,  and  every 
one  concerned  promised  the  most  hearty  co-operation. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BY   Tuesday    afternoon,    Hardwick   had    com 
pleted  the  general  outline  of  the  new  catalogue. 
He  sent  for  one  of  the  printers  whom  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  employing  for  such  jobs  and  arranged 
to  have  some  dummies  made.  Two  days  later,  the 
specifications  for  the  printing  were  ready  and  were 
submitted  to  four  printers  who  usually  figured  on  the 
work  of  the  Prescott  Company. 

In  the  meantime,  he  had  begun  the  layouts  for  the 
pages  and,  by  the  end  of  the  week,  the  general  scheme 
was  well  in  hand.  Hardwick  had  been  in  consultation 
with  several  firms  whom  he  considered  capable  of 
handling  the  drawings  and  engravings.  He  was  much 
disappointed  to  learn  that,  owing  to  the  shortage  of 
employees  occasioned  by  enlistment  in  the  various 
branches  of  war  service,  there  was  a  general  disposition 
to  ask  for  more  time  than  he  had  thought  would  be 
necessary. 

Finally,  he  was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
would  be  compelled  to  divide  the  work  among  several 
local  firms  and  would  probably  have  to  call  on  some 
New  York  concern  to  help.  This  occasioned  a  trip  to 
that  city  which  wasted  a  whole  day,  when  every  hour 
counted.  All  of  this  arrangement  consumed  much  time, 
none  of  which  he  had  taken  into  account  in  his  guess, 

169 


170  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

for  it  was  no  more,  of  the  six  weeks  necessary  for  the 
preliminary  work. 

However,  it  was  all  arranged  just  before  the  first 
of  November,  and  then  he  threw  himself  into  the 
actual  work,  almost  with  fury.  He  found  it  much  more 
difficult  than  he  had  imagined.  It  was  perfectly  easy 
to  contemplate  the  variety,  the  constant  interest  with 
which  he  wished  to  invest  every  page  by  the  avoidance 
of  repetition,  but  actually  to  produce  the  effect  which 
he  desired  was  most  difficult.  Every  page  called  for 
separate  study  and  planning,  and  what  he  had  figured 
in  minutes  proved  to  require  hours.  He  was  called  on 
constantly  to  approve  photographs,  drawings,  what  not, 
while  he  was  endeavoring  to  prepare  new  matter.  At 
the  end  of  the  first  week,  when  he  should  have  had 
one-quarter  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
pages  of  the  book  in  the  engraver's  hands,  only  seven 
teen  had  reached  this  stage. 

And  then  the  printers  began  to  bother  him.  Following 
their  usual  custom,  they  held  back  the  delivery  of  their 
estimates  until  the  last  minute,  and  used  up  as  much 
time  as  possible  in  consulting  him  on  all  sorts  of  points, 
making  various  suggestions,  ostensibly  to  render  him 
service  in  the  preparation  of  the  work,  but  really  to 
obtain  information  which  would  enable  each  of  them  to 
submit  an  acceptable  bid.  Hardwick  tried  to  shunt  them 
off  on  Ruth  Bernstein,  but  invariably  they  came  back 
to  him  and  he  was  without  the  ability  to  deny  himself. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  171 

He  had  always  been  easy  of  approach  and  every  one 
of  these  men  knew  how  to  reach  him. 

In  spite  of  the  slowness  of  the  work  and  the  numerous, 
inevitable  delays,  Hardwick  was  not  discouraged.  The 
next  day  would  always  be  prolific  of  great  results;  once 
the  first  difficulties  over,  the  work  would  go  swimmingly. 
The  next  week,  with  him,  was  always  an  endless  period 
in  which  anything  and  everything  might  be  accom 
plished. 

One  morning,  about  a  week  after  the  specifications 
had  been  given  out,  Hardwick  received  a  visit  from  one 
William  McCabe,  a  printer  with  a  plant  of  fair  size 
and  a  reputation  for  the  production  of  mediocre  work. 
Hardwick  was  displeased  when  McCabe's  name  was 
sent  in,  and  resolved  not  to  see  him.  He  sent  word  that 
he  was  very  busy  and  begged  to  be  excused. 

McCabe,  however,  was  not  to  be  easily  dismissed. 
He  stated  his  willingness  to  await  Hardwick's  con 
venience,  if  he  could  see  him  for  one  minute  only. 
Hardwick  yielded  and  came  out  into  the  reception 
room  and  greeted  him,  standing. 

"How  are  you,  Harry?"  asked  McCabe,  offering  his 
hand. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Mac,"  answered  Hardwick.  "I'm 
awfully  rushed  this  morning.  What  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"When  can  I  see  you  for  about  half  an  hour?" 

"Lord!  I  don't  know  when.  I'm  over  my  head  with 
work  and  I  haven't  a  minute." 


172  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Can  I  see  you  at  your  house  this  evening?" 

"Not  very  well,  I'm  working  here  this  evening.  I'm 
working  every  night." 

"You  eat,  don't  you?" 

"Sure,  but  I  just  grab  a  bite  of  lunch  and  rush  back 
to  work." 

"Where  do  you  go  to  lunch?" 

Hardwick  saw  there  was  no  escape.  "Come  in,"  he 
said,  leading  the  way  to  his  desk.  McCabe  followed 
him. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  asked  Hardwick  when 
they  were  both  seated. 

"I  want  to  bid  on  your  catalogue." 

"How  did  you  hear  about  it?" 

"Oh!  I  heard  all  right.  How  about  it?" 

"Nothing  doing." 

"Why  not?" 

"It's  not  in  your  line." 

"Not  in  my  line!  Why  not?" 

"In  the  first  place,  it's  too  big  a  job  for  your  outfit 
and,  in  the  second,  it's  a  little  beyond  you  in  quality." 

"It's  not  too  big  a  job  for  me,  by  a  good  deal.  I  can 
prove  it,  and  as  for  quality,  I  can  give  you  as  much  as 
anybody." 

"See  here,  Mac,"  said  Hardwick,  who  was  becoming 
much  annoyed,  "I  don't  want  you  in  on  this.  You  don't 
belong.  On  other  work,  I  don't  mind,  but  this  is  out  of 
your  class." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  173 

"Oh!  Is  it?"  asked  McCabe,  calmly,  although  he  was 
quite  conscious  of  Hardwick's  feeling.  "Well,  I  want  to 
bid  just  the  same.  I  don't  have  to  talk  about  it  right 
now,  though.  Meet  me  at  lunch  today,  and  let's  talk 
this  thing  over.  Will  you?" 

Hardwick  hesitated  for  a  moment  and  then  accepted. 
There  were  good  reasons  for  his  humoring  McCabe, 
whom  he  had  known  in  a  business  way  for  many  years. 

By  appointment,  they  met  at  a  little  restaurant  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  office.  Over  a  simple  lunch, 
they  discussed  various  matters,  the  war,  their  common 
acquaintances,  both  of  them  sparring  for  tune.  The  first 
matter  of  a  business  nature  was  begun  by  McCabe. 

"Say,  Harry,"  he  said,  "could  you  write  a  little 
copy  for  me  in  your  spare  time?" 

"For  you  personally?" 

"Not  exactly.  I've  got  a  job  from  a  concern  who 
wants  some  advertising  service  to  go  along  with  their 
printing.  They  don't  do  enough  to  use  an  agency,  and 
they  look  to  us  to  work  up  the  stuff  for  them.  There's 
good  money  in  it." 

Hardwick  was  somewhat  embarrassed.  As  usual,  he 
needed  money  badly  and  would  have  been  happy  to 
earn  it.  At  the  same  time,  he  knew  very  well  McCabe's 
reasons  for  making  the  offer.  Hardwick  had  had  experi 
ence  with  him  before.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  owed 
McCabe  (at  least,  that  was  the  way  he  put  it  to  himself 
to  salve  his  conscience)  four  hundred  dollars  which  he 


174  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

had  borrowed  from  him  from  time  to  time  in  the  past. 
Not  one  cent  of  principal  or  interest  had  ever  been 
repaid.  McCabe  did  not  expect  it;  in  fact,  his  payment 
had  been  received  in  work  which  Hardwick  had  influ 
enced  in  his  direction,  and  Hardwick,  had  he  been  will 
ing  to  look  the  facts  squarely  in  the  face,  would  have 
been  compelled  to  admit  that,  except  in  name,  these 
sums  were  bribes.  But  he  did  not  look  facts  squarely  in 
the  face  and  now  he  was  again  wavering. 

'Tm  afraid  I  can't  take  on  the  work,  Mac,"  he  said, 
after  a  short  pause. 

"Why  not?"  asked  McCabe. 

"In  the  first  place,  I'm  too  busy.  I've  got  my  hands 
full  with  this  catalogue.  It's  a  big  job." 

"This  work  doesn't  have  to  be  done  right  away.  I  can 
give  you  some  tune  on  it." 

Both  men  were  fully  cognizant  of  the  real  nature  of  the 
matter  they  were  discussing,  but  sedulously  avoided  any 
mention  of  it.  On  the  contrary,  each  of  them  spoke  and 
acted  as  though  they  were  both  innocent  of  anything 
ulterior. 

"I  don't  think  it  would  be  considered  altogether 
proper,"  said  Hardwick.  "You  know  I'm  on  a  salary." 

"Sure  I  know.  But  this  work  wouldn't  have  to  be 
in  the  company's  time.  You  wouldn't  be  helping  a  com 
petitor  of  theirs,  it's  a  different  line  altogether,  and 
besides,  you  wouldn't  fall  down  on  anything  you'd  be 
expected  to  do  for  them  because  you  did  this  work  for 
me." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  175 

"I  know  that,"  answered  Hardwick,  slowly,  "but  you 
want  to  bid  on  their  work  and  it  might  be  suspected  that 
I  was  influenced  in  your  favor  because  you  gave  me  this 
job." 

"In  the  first  place  this  affair  doesn't  have  to  be  made 
public  property,"  said  McCabe,  with  the  air  of  impart 
ing  a  great  secret,  "nobody  but  you  and  I  need  ever 
know  about  it,  and  besides,  I'm  not  asking  you  to  do 
it  because  I  want  a  chance  to  bid  on  your  work.  That's 
all  I  want,  a  chance  to  bid.  However,  I'm  asking  you 
to  do  this  job  because  of  your  ability.  Your  stuff's  got 
a  style  that  nobody  in  this  town  can  touch." 
"Well,  I'll  think  it  over  and  let  you  know." 
"All  right,  take  your  time.  There's  no  rush." 
"Just  the  same,  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  Mac." 
"You're  going  to  let  me  bid  on  this  job,  aren't  you?" 
Hardwick  did  not  know  how  to  persist  in  his  refusal 
and  consented.  He  told  himself  that  he  was  not  bound 
to  consider  the  bid  seriously.  In  fact,  it  was  the  easiest 
way  to  get  rid  of  him.  "I'll  send  you  a  set  of  specifica 
tions  in  the  mail  this  evening,"  he  said  to  McCabe,  and 
called  the  waiter  for  the  check.  Hardwick  scanned  the 
check  when  it  was  brought  and  had  already  put  his 
hand  in  his  pocket  to  pay  it  when  he  noticed  that  one 
item  had  been  omitted.  He  called  the  waiter's  attention 
to  it  and  asked  that  it  be  corrected.  When  the  waiter 
had  gone,  McCabe  said: 
"I  never  bother  about  mistakes  against  the  house. 


176  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

That's  their  lookout.  It's  their  business  to  see  that  they 
don't  miss  anything.  If  it's  on  me,  that's  a  different 
matter." 

Hardwick  smiled,  but  made  no  reply. 

After  his  return  to  the  office,  he  directed  Ruth  to 
send  the  specifications  to  McCabe.  She  made  no  com 
ment,  although  she  wondered  at  it,  as  she  was  well 
aware  of  the  mediocre  quality  of  work  turned  out  in 
the  McCabe  plant. 

Hardwick  was  busy  all  afternoon  on  his  layouts.  It 
seemed,  today,  as  though  it  were  impossible  for  him  to 
make  any  progress.  One  difficulty  after  another  pre 
sented  itself,  and  when  by  great  exertion  he  had  com 
pleted  the  preliminary  layouts  of  four  pages  he  found, 
to  his  dismay,  that  he  had  left  out  two  items  in  the  first 
of  them  which  necessitated  doing  all  of  them  over.  He 
was  strongly  tempted  to  lay  the  work  aside  for  the  day 
and  begin  fresh  the  next  morning,  but  he  felt  he  could 
not  do  it,  he  was  much  too  far  behind  his  schedule. 
So  he  stuck  at  it,  working  under  a  sense  of  extreme 
pressure  and  turning  out  poor  copy. 

It  was  five-thirty  when  he  was  sure  it  could  be  no 
more  than  four  o'clock.  He  looked  with  disappointment 
at  the  small  result  of  his  afternoon's  work,  laid  it  to  one 
side,  and  read  and  signed  his  mail.  When  that  was  com 
pleted  he  went  out  to  get  a  bite  to  eat  and  then  returned 
to  his  desk. 

He  worked  for  nearly  two  hours,  making  somewhat 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  177 

better  progress,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  he  was  so 
weary  of  the  whole  job  that  he  wished  he  had  never 
undertaken  it.  He  felt  he  could  do  no  more  and  went 
home. 

When  he  came  into  his  house  it  was  after  nine  o'clock. 
Mrs.  Hardwick  was  reading  placidly,  while  Marian  was 
going  through  the  motion  of  preparing  her  lessons  for 
the  next  day.  The  moment  he  came  in,  she  dropped  her 
books  and  ran  to  him  with  her  usual  alacrity.  It  was 
always  the  same,  all  of  his  weariness  dropped  from  him 
in  the  warmth  of  her  greeting.  She  clung  to  him,  while 
he  bent  over  and  kissed  his  wife,  who  had  not  risen  when 
he  entered. 

"Henry,"  she  said,  "I  have  rather  unpleasant  news 
for  you." 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  rather  weakly.  It  seemed  that 
an  evil  fate  was  pursuing  him  even  here,  in  his  home, 
where  he  looked  for  rest  and  consolation. 

"I  have  had  a  letter  from  Miss  Strong,  one  of  Alice's 
teachers,  in  which  she  tells  me  that  our  dear  girl  has 
not  been  well.  She  has  had  an  attack  of  the  grippe,  and 
has  been  quite  ill.  Miss  Strong  wrote  that  she  does  not 
believe  there  is  any  occasion  for  concern  and  that  she 
will  keep  us  fully  informed.  I  wrote  her  immediately, 
asking  her  if  she  thought  my  presence  advisable  and 
announcing  my  readiness  to  come  at  a  moment's 
notice." 

"You  wrote,"  cried  Hardwick.  "Why  didn't  you  tele 
graph  or  telephone?" 


178  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"It  isn't  necessary,  I  assure  you.  The  tone  of  Miss 
Strong's  letter  was  altogether  reassuring  and,  besides, 
she  said  most  distinctly  that  there  was  no  occasion  for 
concern.  Further  than  that,  I  know  Alice's  constitution 
very  well.  She  is  unusually  vigorous  and  has  always  come 
bravely  through  these  little  attacks.  I  am  not  at  all 
worried  and  I  think  it  very  foolish  of  you  to  take  the 
matter  so  seriously.  If  there  is  any  occasion,  I  am  quite 
sure  that  Miss  Strong  will  let  us  hear  from  her  without 
delay.  She  is  a  most  discriminating  young  woman. 
She  made  an  excellent  impression  upon  me  when  I  met 
her  at  the  college,  both  as  to  her  personality  and  attain 
ments.  She  was  much  interested  hi  my  article  on  Rous 
seau,  which  she  read  in  the  University  Magazine.  She 
was  quite  lavish  in  her  praise  of  it.  Really,  I  have  every 
confidence  in  her.  Our  child  could  not  be  in  better  hands." 
Mrs.  Hardwick  beamed  upon  her  husband  as  though  she 
wished  to  impart  to  him  some  of  the  sense  of  complete 
self-sufficiency  which  constantly  sustained  her. 

But  Hardwick  was  plainly  worried.  This  was  his  first 
experience  of  the  sort  and  it  made  him  fearfully  anxious. 
He  had  a  sense  of  impending  calamity  which  resulted 
in  restlessness.  He  felt  that  he  must  do  something. 

"When  was  the  letter  dated?"  he  asked. 

"Yesterday  morning,"  answered  his  wife. 

Hardwick  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  nine-thirty. 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  too  late  to  call  Miss  Strong  on  the 
long  distance  'phone,"  he  said. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  179 

"Certainly  it  is,"  answered  his  wife.  "It  would  take 
you  at  least  one  hour,  and  by  that  time  it  would  be 
nearly  eleven  o'clock.  I  think  you  are  giving  yourself 
unnecessary  concern.  Miss  Strong  would  be  sure  to 
telephone  or  telegraph  us  if  there  were  cause." 

Hardwick  made  no  reply.  He  tried  to  convince  himself 
that  his  fear  was  unreasonable;  that  there  could  be  no 
ground  for  apprehension;  that  attacks  of  grippe  were 
common,  but  to  no  avail.  His  unrest  continued,  he 
found  it  impossible  to  sit  still  and  got  up  and  walked 
about  the  room.  Marian  felt  his  trouble,  and,  sympathet 
ically,  wished  that  she  might  do  something  to  alleviate 
it.  He  found  that  his  nervousness  was  not  allayed  by 
motion.  Instead,  it  seemed  to  increase,  and  presently 
he  sat  down  again  and  made  an  attempt  to  read.  But 
he  could  not  fasten  his  attention,  and,  with  the  hope 
of  sleep,  sought  his  bed. 

It  seemed  to  him  the  next  morning  that  he  had  not 
had  ten  minutes  of  consecutive  slumber.  He  felt  that  he 
had  spent  most  of  the  night  awake  and  that  the  sleep 
he  had  had  brought  only  disquieting  dreams.  In  fact, 
he  awoke  frequently  during  the  night,  and  in  his  waking 
spells  every  footfall  he  heard  in  the  street  seemed  to 
him  that  of  a  messenger  bringing  unwelcome  tidings.  He 
made  no  attempt  at  consecutive  thought,  he  did  not  try 
to  apply  reason  to  his  trouble,  he  was  simply  panic- 
stricken,  full  of  foreboding  evil,  deeply  miserable. 

He  arose  early,  feeling  more  fatigued  than  when  he 


180  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

went  to  bed.  He  dressed  hastily,  found  himself  unable  to 
eat  his  breakfast,  and  hurried  to  the  office,  where  he 
immediately  sent  a  telegram  to  Miss  Strong,  asking  for 
news  by  return  wire. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HAVING  sent  the  telegram,  Hardwick  felt 
somewhat  better.  At  least  he  had  done  some 
thing,  and  the  feeling  of  complete  helpless 
ness  which  had  controlled  him  was  slightly  mitigated. 

He  was  about  half  way  through  his  mail  when  he  was 
called  on  the  telephone  by  Mrs.  Hardwick.  She  told  him, 
in  a  tone  which  he  thought  showed  plainly  that  she  was 
attempting  to  conceal  her  anxiety,  that  she  had  just 
received  a  telegram  from  Miss  Strong  advising  her  to 
come  at  once,  as  Alice's  condition  had  suddenly  grown 
serious. 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Hardwick  immediately. 
"We'll  go  to  New  York  on  the  ten  o'clock  train,  if  you 
can  be  ready  in  time,  and  we'll  take  the  one  o'clock  from 
the  Grand  Central.  That  ought  to  bring  us  there  about 
seven  o'clock  this  evening.  Can  you  make  it?" 

Mrs.  Hardwick  assured  him  that  she  could  and  said 
she  would  pack  some  things  in  her  bag  for  him.  Hard 
wick  called  Ruth  and  explained  the  situation  to  her.  He 
told  her  that  he  expected  to  return  the  next  evening  on 
the  night  train,  so  that  he  would  miss  only  two  days. 
He  would  leave  Mrs.  Hardwick  with  Alice  until  she 
was  completely  restored  to  health.  He  gave  her  direc 
tions  with  regard  to  all  matters  which  he  thought  might 
come  up  during  the  next  two  days  and  asked  her  to 

181 


182  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

explain  to  Mr.  Pemberton  the  cause  of  his  absence. 
He  then  left  the  office  although  it  was  no  later  than 
quarter  after  nine  and  he  could  reach  the  station  easily 
in  fifteen  minutes. 

Now  that  he  was  actually  out  of  the  office,  and,  as  he 
felt,  on  his  way  to  Alice,  his  hopefulness  asserted  itself 
in  some  measure.  He  told  himself  that  it  had  been  most 
absurd  for  him  to  yield  completely  to  panic  at  the  first 
sign  of  danger.  Alice  was  a  strong,  active  girl.  She  had 
every  chance  in  the  world,  even  though  her  illness  might 
be  more  serious  than  they  knew.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
the  health  of  the  girls  in  the  college  was  carefully  watched 
by  the  authorities  and  that  when  they  were  ill  they  had 
the  best  medical  attention  and  nursing. 

But,  even  as  he  told  himself  these  things,  fear  lurked 
in  his  bosom,  and  he  railed  at  the  distance  that  separated 
her  from  him;  at  the  doubt  that  he  must  feel  until  he 
knew  that  she  was  safe  beyond  peradventure.  Again,  he 
gave  himself  up  to  sheer  misery,  to  hopeless  turning  the 
matter  over  and  over  in  his  mind. 

He  arrived  at  the  station  ten  minutes  before  Mrs. 
Hardwick  appeared,  and  employed  this  time  in  purchas 
ing  railway  tickets  and  parlor  car  seats.  They  met  at 
a  place  in  the  station  which  they  had  appointed.  He 
saw  her  coming  through  the  crowd  before  she  had 
perceived  him,  and  he  noted  that  her  face  wore  an 
expression  of  anxiety  that  he  did  not  remember  ever 
having  seen  upon  it  before.  As  soon  as  she  saw  him 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  183 

it  vanished,  and,  in  its  stead,  she  wore  her  usual 
benevolent  smile.  He  wondered  vaguely  whether  she 
wore  it  intentionally,  for,  obviously,  it  was  intentional, 
to  help  him,  to  encourage  him.  He  could  not  decide, 
but,  whatever  the  cause,  he  was  grateful  and  admired 
her  for  her  strength.  She  had  no  sooner  come  up  to 
him  than  she  began  to  talk. 

"I'm  quite  sure,  Henry,"  she  said,  "that  Miss  Strong 
is  unnecessarily  alarmed.  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  a 
more  serious  case  than  I  thought,  but  I  have  every 
confidence  that  the  issue  will  be  favorable.  Have  you 
the  tickets?" 

He  told  her  that  he  had  attended  to  everything  and 
led  the  way  to  the  waiting  room,  as  it  was  much  too 
early  for  the  gate  for  their  train  to  be  open.  They  sat 
down  and  Mrs.  Hardwick  began  again  with  her  assur 
ances  that  the  case,  serious  as  it  might  be,  would  be 
bound  to  end  as  they  wished.  Hardwick  took  small 
note  of  what  she  said,  he  was  much  too  depressed  and 
anxious  to  be  set  at  rest  by  her  words.  But  as  she  con 
tinued,  apparently  without  noticing  his  obvious  lack 
of  interested  attention,  he  found  himself  wondering 
whether  or  not  her  endless  flow  of  talk  was  no  more 
than  a  mere  nervous  reflex,  an  outlet  for  her  suppressed 
emotion.  And,  while  this  seemed  a  perfectly  reasonable 
explanation,  he  could  not  deny  the  fact  that  she 
appeared  to  believe  what  she  said  and  drew  comfort 
therefrom.  It  reminded  him  of  the  faith  of  a  Christian 


184  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Scientist,  who,  by  dint  of  constant  profession  of  belief 
in  the  non-existence  of  disease,  came  finally  to  a  sort 
of  immunity,  more  or  less  general,  as  the  case  might 
be.  But  these  were  not  active  thoughts  in  his  mind; 
they  came,  as  one  might  say,  into  a  secondary  stratum 
of  his  consciousness.  He  was  only  actively  aware  of 
them  quite  some  time  after  he  had  begun  to  think  of 
the  subject,  and  when  he  was,  he  put  the  whole  matter 
out  of  his  mind,  with  a  sort  of  horror  at  the  idea  that 
he  could  indulge  in  this  sort  of  speculation  when  his 
child  was  lying  ill,  perhaps  at  the  point  of  death,  miles 
away  from  him. 

And  then  the  crier  announced  their  train  and  they 
went  out  on  the  platform,  and,  in  Hardwick's  mind, 
walked  endlessly  until  they  reached  the  car  in  which 
their  seats  had  been  engaged.  And  then  it  seemed  ages 
to  him  until  the  train  started. 

When  it  was  finally  in  motion,  he  had  a  sudden  sense 
of  relief.  At  last  they  were  on  the  way.  Strange  to  say, 
Mrs.  Hardwick  had  not  spoken  since  they  were  on 
board;  she  sat,  looking  out  of  the  car  window,  her  face 
wearing  its  usual  benignity,  and  Hardwick  again  found 
himself  wondering  at  her  and  about  her.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  she  did  not  share  his  anxiety?  He  knew 
well  that  Alice  was  her  favorite  of  the  two  girls,  that 
she  invariably  chose  her  to  receive  any  special  benefit 
when  a  choice  had  to  be  made  between  them,  and  yet, 
in  the  face  of  a  call  like  this,  which  could  be  the  result 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  185 

only  of  fear  of  the  most  serious  consequences,  she  was 
outwardly  calm,  and  perfectly  confident  that  she  was 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  shafts  of  ill  fortune. 

And  then  he  remembered  she  had  always  been  like 
this,  always  certain  that  the  fates  were  powerless 
against  her.  Poverty,  lack  of  opportunity,  mediocrity 
could  not  touch  her;  they  might  ruffle  her  serenity  for 
a  moment,  but  always  in  the  end  they  had  no  sting  for 
her,  they  could  not  cause  her  more  than  a  fleeting 
regret  and  then,  apparently,  they  were  forgotten. 

Presently  Mrs.  Hardwick  began  again  to  talk  to  him. 
She  suddenly  remembered  that  this  was  her  day  at  the 
Red  Cross  Auxiliary  and  she  treated  him  to  a  long  tale 
of  the  confusion  that  would  surely  result  because  of 
her  absence.  He  listened  with  half  of  his  attention, 
while  the  rest  of  it  was  devoted  to  a  dull  round  of 
alternate  fear  and  hope.  But  it  was  an  eccentric  round, 
the  fear  predominated. 

At  last  they  were  in  New  York  and  went  immediately 
to  the  Grand  Central  station,  where  they  had  their 
lunch.  It  would  be  more  accurate  to  say  that  only 
Mrs.  Hardwick  had  lunch,  for  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  do  more  than  swallow  a  few  mouthfuls.  At  all  events, 
it  occupied  their  time  and  he  did  not  suffer  the  same 
misery  of  waiting  for  the  train  that  he  had  experienced 
earlier  in  the  day. 

The  motion  of  the  train  again  relieved  him  even 
though  it  appeared  that  it  was  running  exceedingly 


186  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

slowly.  He  began  to  talk,  for  almost  the  first  time  on 
the  trip,  about  Alice,  offering  conjectures  as  to  her 
probable  state.  Mrs.  Hardwick  met  this  with  a  renewal 
of  her  assurances  that,  however  serious  the  disease 
might  appear,  she  was  sure  that  Alice  would  get  well. 
Hardwick  listened  to  her  with  the  devout  wish  that  he 
could  believe  her.  But  he  did  not,  it  was  impossible. 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  their  train  was  held 
up  for  nearly  an  hour  owing  to  some  obstruction  on  the 
tracks.  Hardwick  could  not  keep  his  seat  but  went  out 
of  the  train  and  walked  up  and  down  most  of  the  time. 
When,  at  last,  the  train  was  again  moving  forward, 
it  seemed  to  him  that  his  limit  of  suffering  had  been 
reached.  Never  in  his  life  had  he  been  so  unhappy.  No 
longer  did  he  face  concrete  facts,  or  even  definite  sorrow, 
but  was  conscious  only  of  the  deepest  dejection,  an 
utter  let-down  of  his  whole  being  such  as  he  had  never 
known. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  too  was  showing  signs  of  the  strain, 
coupled  with  the  physical  fatigue  of  the  long  journey. 
She  no  longer  talked,  but  sat  in  her  chair,  staring  into 
vacancy. 

At  last  they  left  the  train  and  took  one  of  the  waiting 
cabs  for  the  college.  It  was  a  trip  of  but  a  few  minutes, 
and  when  they  descended  and  began  their  walk  into 
the  building,  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that 
Hardwick  restrained  his  pace  so  as  not  to  outdistance 
his  wife. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  187 

As  they  entered  the  hall,  he  saw  a  young  woman 
coming  towards  them;  Mrs.  Hard  wick  murmured  "Miss 
Strong."  It  was  not  necessary,  for  he  divined  that  it 
was  she,  and  much  more.  There  was  no  need  for  words, 
the  look  upon  her  face  told  him  that  the  worst  had 
happened;  that  they  had  arrived  too  late. 

At  that  supreme  moment  Hardwick  suddenly  recov 
ered  control  of  himself.  No  longer  was  he  beset  by  the 
gnawing  fear  which  had  consumed  him  for  nearly  twen 
ty-four  hours.  That  was  gone,  and,  in  its  place,  was  the 
strength  which  came  with  the  terrible  certainty  which 
he  must  meet.  He  turned  to  his  wife  and  was  shocked  to 
see  an  ashen  pallor  on  her  face,  a  look  of  indecision,  of 
doubt,  of  incredulity.  He  took  her  arm  and  led  her  to  a 
chair. 

"Oh!  Henry,"  was  all  she  said,  and  sat  there,  speech 
less,  utterly  crushed.  This  could  not  be;  this  could  not 
come  to  her.  She  could  not  believe  it.  In  her  mind  but 
one  idea  continuously  recurred,  this  constant  rejection 
of  the  definite  fact.  She  sat  there,  dull,  impassive,  with 
this  sing-song  of  denial  sounding  within  her,  and  then, 
suddenly,  as  with  a  snap,  the  truth  prevailed  with  a 
shock  that  appeared  to  halt  her  every  function.  Liter 
ally,  she  seemed  to  crumple,  her  head  fell  on  her  bosom, 
and  her  body  looked  as  though  it  had  shrunken. 

She  did  not  faint  in  the  physical  sense,  but  she  was 
barely  conscious;  all  of  her  faculties  were  numbed,  she 
scarcely  lived  for  those  few  minutes.  Hardwick  spoke 


188  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

to  her,  whispering  words  of  intended  encouragement, 
but  she  did  not  hear.  She  hardly  knew  what  had  hap 
pened,  the  shock  had  been  too  great,  and  her  whole  nerv 
ous  organization  had  been  disordered,  leaving  her  with 
only  the  elements  of  consciousness. 

And  then,  gradually,  little  by  little,  order  was  re-estab 
lished  within  her,  and,  with  the  recognition  of  what  had 
happened,  she  was  seized  with  a  fury  of  protest,  of  violent 
revolt,  of  injustice,  of  injury.  Inchoate  as  these  emotions 
were  within  her,  incapable  as  she  was  of  the  expression 
which  would  have  relieved  her,  she  suffered  from  them 
as  though  they  burnt  within  her,  as  though  she  felt  the 
pain  of  actual  physical  contact  with  fire,  in  horrible, 
helpless  anguish. 

For  several  minutes  she  sat  thus;  unhearing,  unheed 
ing  the  words  which  Miss  Strong  and  her  husband  spoke 
to  her  from  time  to  time,  and  then,  suddenly,  she 
looked  up  and  said: 

"Take  me  to  her." 

"Are  you  sure  you  are  well  enough?"  asked  Miss 
Strong. 

"Take  me  to  her,"  repeated  Mrs.  Hardwick,  and 
arose,  swaying  slightly  when  she  was  on  her  feet. 
Hardwick  took  her  arm,  and  together  they  went  to  the 
room  where  Alice  lay. 

On  the  way,  Miss  Strong  explained  that  during  the 
night  Alice  had  developed  an  acute  double  pneumonia 
which  had  progressed  at  a  frightful  pace  despite  every 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  189 

effort  that  had  been  made.  She  had  died  at  half-past 
six  in  the  evening.  She  had  been  attended  during  the 
afternoon  by  an  eminent  specialist  from  Boston,  as 
well  as  two  other  physicians.  No  stone  had  been  left 
unturned,  nothing  within  the  best  medical  knowledge 
had  been  left  untried. 

As  Mrs.  Hardwick  looked  upon  her  daughter's  body, 
she  suddenly  collapsed  and,  this  time,  she  really  lost 
consciousness.  A  physician  was  called  instantly  and 
she  was  put  to  bed,  where  she  speedily  recovered  her 
senses,  and  then  under  the  influence  of  a  powerful 
opiate  fell  into  a  deep  slumber. 

As  soon  as  Hardwick  saw  that  she  was  asleep,  he 
went  out  for  a  walk.  He  felt  that  he  must  be  utterly 
alone  to  appraise  the  situation,  and  he  believed  that  a 
walk  in  the  cool  night  would  quiet  his  jaded  nerves. 

He  was  calm  now;  much  depressed  but  not  agitated. 
He  felt  his  loss  keenly;  his  love  for  both  of  his  girls  was 
complete,  the  best  that  was  in  him.  Even  though  Marian 
was  his  favorite,  Alice's  place  in  his  deepest  affections 
had  never  been  open  to  any  question.  And  now,  he 
thought  bitterly,  they  must  face  the  future  without  her. 
Ah!  Well.  Fortune  had  no  favors  for  him.  At  every  turn 
he  was  met  by  adversity  and  ill-luck,  and  now  this 
crowning  trial.  Why  was  it?  he  mused.  Why  was  he 
denied  his  share  of  happiness?  Why  must  misfortune 
always  be  his  portion?  And  then  he  thought  of  Marian, 
of  her  grief  and  consternation  when  the  news  should 


190  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

come  to  her,  and,  instantly,  his  sympathy  was  entirely 
enlisted  in  her  behalf,  he  forgot  his  own  loss  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  be  able  to  lessen  hers. 

He  walked  for  about  half  an  hour  and  then  went  to 
bed  calmly  and  peacefully,  though  sorrowfully.  At  all 
events,  he  was  a  man  and  he  must  bear  his  trials  with 
fortitude.  He  recognized  that  sorrow  is  part  of  the  game 
and  that  when  it  comes,  it  must  be  met  courageously 
and  without  whimpering. 

It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  he  sought  slumber 
and  its  peace  was  not  long  denied  him. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  funeral  was  set  for  the  following  Monday, 
four  days  after  Alice's  death.  It  was  a  com 
paratively  expensive  affair;  some  elementary 
quality  in  Mrs.  Hardwick  made  it  necessary  for  her  to 
demand  a  certain  amount  of  pomp  and  circumstance  in 
this  sad  business  to  satisfy  her  feeling  for  what  was  fit 
ting  and  proper.  Hardwick  had  not  offered  any  opposi 
tion.  If  he  thought  of  the  expense,  which  was  unlikely 
in  his  state  of  complete  dejection,  it  was  but  momentary. 
It  did  not  seem  to  him  that  anything  mattered  very 
much  just  now,  and  he  acquiesced  in  every  proposal 
that  was  made  with  regard  to  the  affair.  He  wondered 
dully  how  there  could  be  room  in  his  wife's  mind  for 
insistence  upon  such  details  in  view  of  her  sincere  grief, 
for  there  was  no  chance  for  doubt  as  to  that. 

The  first  great  shock  and  temporary  display  of  help 
lessness  once  passed,  Mrs.  Hardwick's  well-marked  indi 
viduality  reasserted  itself.  She  talked  freely,  much  too 
freely,  Hardwick  thought,  of  Alice,  of  her  qualities,  of 
her  life  from  babyhood  to  the  present.  It  seemed  to 
Hardwick  much  too  sacred  for  utterance,  and,  although 
he  did  not  venture  to  incur  the  charge  of  hyper-sensitive 
ness  which  a  mention  of  his  views  would  have  brought 
from  his  wife,  he  writhed  under  it.  He  did  not  object  to 
her  mention  of  these  things  to  him,  it  was  that  she  spoke 

191 


192  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

of  them  to  everyone  with  whom  they  came  into  contact. 
And  when  they  were  again  in  their  own  home,  they  were 
almost  constantly  receiving  visitors  who  came  to  offer 
their  condolence. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  saw  everybody.  It  was  not  in  her 
nature  to  hide  her  sorrow;  she  shared  it  with  the  world 
precisely  as  she  shared  all  of  her  thoughts.  Neither 
reticence  nor  circumspection  moved  her  to  silence,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  she  had  a  distinct  satisfaction  in 
the  presence  of  those  of  their  friends  who  came  to  express 
their  sympathy.  While  she  spoke  to  them  in  a  subdued 
tone,  and  reverted  constantly  to  the  subject  of  her  great 
sorrow,  there  was  no  real  diminution  of  her  volubility. 
She  still  talked  almost  all  of  the  time  even  if  she  spoke 
more  slowly  and  more  quietly. 

She  was  interested  in  knowing  the  names  of  the  send 
ers  of  all  of  their  cards  of  condolence,  and  collected  them 
carefully.  She  personally  accepted  the  offer  of  service, 
made  by  some  of  their  friends,  particularly  with  regard 
to  the  purchase  of  suitable  mourning  apparel.  He  won- 
dred  at  her;  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  she  could  have 
so  much  interest  in  such  trifling  matters  when  she  was 
suffering  from  the  greatest  sorrow  that  she  had  ever 
known.  But  that  she  had  the  interest  and  that  she  was 
perfectly  mistress  of  herself  were  unquestionable. 

Among  their  visitors  was  McCabe,  the  printer.  Before 
he  left,  he  drew  Hardwick  to  one  side  and  asked  him 
whether  he  was  in  need  of  ready  money,  with  an  offer 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  193 

to  lend  him  any  sum  which  he  might  require.  Hardwick 
thanked  him  but  declined;  he  had  just  received  his 
October  salary  and  that  was  ample  for  immediate  needs. 

During  the  days  between  their  return  home  and  the 
funeral,  Hardwick's  principal  concern  was  Marian. 
She  had  received  the  news  quietly  and  without  any 
marked  display  of  emotion,  but  later,  when  he  suddenly 
missed  her  and  went  in  search,  he  found  her  in  her  room 
in  a  paroxysm  of  tears.  He  comforted  her  as  best  he 
could  and,  thereafter,  she  restrained  the  evidences  of 
her  emotion,  and  went  about,  silent,  subdued,  wearing 
an  expression  of  the  most  intense  grief.  She  was  his  great 
comfort,  now  as  always.  It  seemed  that  she  divined  his 
moods  and  her  presence  invariably  ministered  to  his 
need  of  the  moment,  whatever  that  might  be. 

Hardwick  went  to  the  office  the  morning  after  the 
funeral,  very  much  worried  about  the  time  that  had 
been  lost  in  the  preparation  of  the  catalogue.  It  was  the 
thirteenth  of  November,  when  at  least  half  of  the  illus 
trations  should  have  been  well  hi  hand,  and  only  one- 
quarter  of  them  had  been  begun.  He  attempted  to  plan 
the  balance  of  the  work,  allowing  himself  an  extra  week, 
the  first  one  of  December,  for  the  preparatory  work.  He 
felt  that  this  would  be  safe,  as  the  printer  could  begin 
with  the  earlier  pages  while  the  others  were  under  way. 
He  recognized  that  it  would  call  for  the  greatest  effort 
and  that  there  was  no  room  for  mistakes  of  any  kind. 

When  he  reached  the  office,  he  called  Ruth,  and,  with- 


194  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

out  waiting  for  any  account  of  what  had  happened  in 
the  office  during  his  absence,  began  immediately  to  dis 
cuss  his  plans  for  pushing  the  catalogue  work  to  its 
conclusion.  She  told  him  that  Pemberton  had  inquired 
as  to  the  status  of  the  project  while  Hard  wick  was  away 
and  that  he  was  inclined  to  give  up  the  idea  of  finishing 
it  and,  instead,  favored  duplicating  their  last  year's 
catalogue. 

"That  won't  do  at  all,"  said  Hardwick,  "I'll  see  him 
as  soon  as  he  comes  in." 

Pemberton  greeted  him  as  though  nothing  in  particu 
lar  had  happened  and  Hardwick  was  so  much  interested 
in  saving  his  catalogue  that  he  did  not  notice  it  at  the 
time.  When  it  occurred  to  him  afterwards,  he  was  quite 
willing  to  admit  that  he  never  looked  upon  Pemberton 
as  being  altogether  human.  But  this  did  not  alter  the 
fact  that  he  felt  hurt. 

Pemberton  listened  to  the  explanation  of  his  plan  to 
make  up  for  the  lost  time,  and,  after  a  short  silence, 
said: 

"I  think  it  would  be  wiser  not  to  take  the  chance  of 
further  delay.  You  know  how  I  feel  about  being  on  time, 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  banking  on  everything 
going  just  as  you  plan  it  and  your  experience  must  have 
shown  you  that  that  never  happens.  Better  give  up 
the  scheme  now,  while  there's  yet  time  to  get  out  a  book 
like  last  year's." 

"But  think  of  the  money  we've  spent  already  and 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  195 

remember  that  we've  got  the  cuts  for  the  first  thirty 
pages  practically  completed.  I'll  work  every  night,  if 
it's  necessary,  and  I'll  be  ready  next  week  with  enough 
copy  for  the  printer  to  begin  with.  I'll  put  it  through  all 
right." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Pemberton,  "but  it  seems  to 
me  you're  going  to  have  an  awful  pull." 

"I'll  come  through  all  right,"  said  Hardwick,  and 
left  the  office. 

He  returned  to  his  desk,  where  he  found  an  accumula 
tion  of  mail.  Among  it  were  several  dunning  letters,  and 
a  notice  of  an  overdue  premium  on  one  of  his  life  insur 
ance  policies.  He  was  somewhat  upset  by  these  evi 
dences  of  his  constant  lack  of  funds,  but  he  was  too 
much  engrossed  by  the  work  on  the  catalogue  to  let  it 
trouble  him  for  more  than  a  moment. 

He  plunged  into  the  work  with  the  energy  of  despair. 
During  the  morning  he  saw  the  men  who  were  making 
the  illustrations  and  was  dismayed  to  learn  that  scarcely 
anything  had  been  done  in  his  absence.  Instead  of  the 
thirty  pages  upon  which  he  had  counted,  he  found  that 
barely  twenty  had  been  completed.  The  balance  had 
been  held  up  for  various  reasons,  all  of  them  depending 
upon  his  return.  However,  in  his  determination  to  get 
through  in  time,  he  mastered  his  disappointment  and 
called  upon  the  photographers  and  designers  for  extra 
ordinary  effort,  telling  them  that  his  position  depended 
on  the  prompt  completion  of  this  work.  They  promised 


196  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

to  do  everything  that  lay  in  their  power,  and  Hardwick 
was  again  encouraged. 

During  the  balance  of  the  week  excellent  progress 
was  made  and,  when  Hardwick  was  on  his  way  home, 
very  late  on  Saturday  afternoon,  he  felt  that  he  would 
pull  through  in  time. 

His  work  had  so  completely  engaged  his  attention 
during  the  week  that  he  scarcely  had  a  moment  in 
which  to  dwell  upon  his  sorrow.  He  had  worked  every 
evening,  and  had  come  home  at  night  so  utterly  fatigued 
that  he  had  had  only  sufficient  energy  to  tumble  into 
bed.  His  great  loss  was  in  his  mind  constantly,  of  course, 
but  the  pressure  of  his  business  had  prevented  him  from 
dwelling  upon  it. 

But  when  he  went  home  on  Saturday  afternoon  the 
high  pressure  under  which  he  had  been  working  all 
week  was  relaxed,  and,  in  the  reaction,  he  felt  broken, 
unhappy.  What  was  it  all  worth?  he  asked  himself, 
as  he  walked  down  the  street.  Always  before,  in  the  face 
of  adversity,  he  had  had  the  feeling  that  his  trouble  was 
but  transitory;  his  wounds,  whatever  they  might  be, 
were  on  the  surface  only.  But  this  was  different,  he  felt 
that  he  had  been  hurt  vitally;  no  longer  was  the  citadel 
of  his  family  intact,  his  loss  was  irreparable. 

In  the  physical  fatigue  which  he  suffered,  morbid 
thought  had  full  play.  He  was  ready  to  capitulate,  to 
admit  that  he  no  longer  had  any  hold  on  life  that  was 
worth  while.  Black  despair  seized  him,  and,  for  the 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  197 

first  time  in  his  experience,  he  felt  old,  his  force  spent, 
the  game  no  longer  worth  the  candle. 

It  was  in  this  mood  that  he  opened  the  door  of  his 
house  and  let  himself  into  the  semi-darkness  of  the  hall. 
And  out  of  this  half  light  there  came  the  figure  of 
Marian,  who  had  been  sitting  there  awaiting  his  coming. 
Her  arms  about  his  neck  and  her  welcoming  kisses 
worked  a  magical  transformation.  He  was  a  man  again, 
new  strength  came  to  him  in  the  love  which  he  bore  this 
dear  child.  She  was  left  to  him,  he  thought,  almost 
exultantly,  and  asked  himself  what  manner  of  man  he 
was  to  forget  so  easily  the  blessings  that  were  yet  his. 

Together  they  went  up  the  stair  to  Mrs.  Hardwick. 
She  was  sitting  in  her  bedroom  knitting  and,  appar 
ently,  had  been  deep  in  thought.  She  greeted  him  in 
her  usual  manner,  in  which,  however,  the  old  cheerful 
ness  was  lacking.  He  sat  down  and  questioned  her  as 
to  the  happenings  of  the  day. 

"We  had  quite  a  number  of  callers,"  she  said.  "It's 
beautiful  the  way  my  friends  have  come  to  me  to 
express  their  sympathy.  It  is  a  most  eloquent  testi 
monial  of  their  high  regard,  and,  were  it  not  for  the 
sorrow  which  they  come  to  share,  it  would  be  a  source 
of  the  greatest  pride  to  me.  Mrs.  L.  Percival  Sedley 
was  among  the  callers.  I  was  much  honored;  a  woman,  so 
occupied  with  the  manifold  duties  which  her  high  posi 
tion  in  the  community  imposes,  to  find  time  to  call  on 
me,  shows  thereby  not  only  her  fine  feeling,  but  her 


198  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

right  to  the  exalted  station  which  she  holds  in  society." 
Mrs.  Hardwick,  as  usual,  was  being  carried  away  on 
the  wings  of  her  own  verbal  fluency,  and  became 
progressively  cheerful.  In  the  same  tone,  she  went  on 
to  speak  of  other  matters  of  interest  to  her,  interesting 
because,  in  her  view,  all  of  them  tended  to  magnify 
her  own  importance. 

Hardwick  again  wondered  at  her,  his  thoughts  far 
from  her  actual  words.  He  thought  it  remarkable  that 
she  could  be  so  utterly  self -centered  that  she  should  find 
personal  satisfaction  in  visits  of  condolence.  She  was 
to  be  envied,  he  thought,  hi  being  thus  able  to  maintain 
her  interest  in  her  own  personality,  no  matter  what 
happened.  She  had  always  been  like  this,  always  the 
same,  everything  was  grist  which  came  to  her  mill. 

"Mrs.  Sedley  told  me,"  Mrs.  Hardwick  continued, 
"that  they  miss  me  sadly  at  the  Red  Cross.  It  appears 
that  things  are  not  going  very  well  without  me.  I 
really  had  no  idea  that  my  services  were  so  important. 
Of  course,  I  have  always  taken  a  great  interest  in  the 
work;  it  has  always  been  my  habit  to  devote  myself 
to  any  cause  which  aroused  my  enthusiasm,  and,  in 
this  case,  I  have  done  the  best  I  knew  how,  little 
thinking  that  my  efforts  were  so  thoroughly  appre 
ciated.  Mrs.  Sedley  told  me,  among  other  things,  that 
Mrs.  Harley,  the  instructor,  was  quite  distressed  at 
my  enforced  absence  and  hoped  that  I  would  soon 
rejoin  them,  even  though  she  recognized  fully,  under 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  199 

the  circumstances,  that  it  would  be  a  great  sacrifice 
on  my  part.  Really,  I  have  almost  decided  to  return 
in  a  week  or  so.  I  do  not  think  that,  at  a  time  like  this, 
we  may  allow  our  private  sorrows  to  interfere  with  our 
usefulness  to  the  public.  With  the  whole  civilized  world 
at  war,  with  our  people,  our  government — " 

"Mother, "interrupted  Marian,  who  had  been  listening 
to  this  speech  with  great  interest,  "do  you  know  what  I 
think  you  could  do  wonderfully  and  make  a  lot  of  money, 
too?"  She  was  perfectly  serious  and  Mrs.  Hardwick,  who 
usually  would  not  brook  interruption,  turned  to  her  and, 
struck  by  the  sincere  earnestness  of  her  tone  and  ex 
pression,  asked: 

"What,  Marian?" 

"You  ought  to  be  a  lecturer.  You  say  things  so 
beautifully." 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  much  pleased.  There  was  no 
doubt  of  the  sincerity  of  the  compliment. 

"I  make  no  doubt,  Marian,"  she  said,  "that  I  could 
add  substantially  to  the  family  exchequer  were  I  to 
devote  myself  to  public  speaking.  I  have  never  thought 
of  it  before,  but  it  is  a  matter  well  worth  considering. 
Perhaps  some  day  I  shall  have  occasion  to  use  what 
small  gifts  I  have  in  that  direction.  At  all  events  it  is 
an  interesting  subject  for  thought." 

"You  sure  could  put  it  across  all  right,"  said  Marian, 
and  her  mother  was  so  much  absorbed  by  the  vision  of 
herself  in  the  public  eye  that  she  forgot  to  reprove 
her  daughter  for  her  verbal  delinquency. 


CHAPTER  XX 

ON  the  evening  of  that  Saturday,  Pemberton 
took  Ruth  to  the  theatre.  He  had  frequently 
invited  lier  to  go  with  him  to  various  places 
of  amusement,  but  she  had  invariably  declined.  She 
had  never  been  able  to  explain,  even  to  herself,  why  she 
did  not  wish  to  accompany  him  in  public,  but  she  was 
very  sure,  nevertheless,  that  in  the  main  she  did  not 
wish  it.  Her  refusal  was  always  definite,  even  though 
the  emotion  which  prompted  it  was  far  from  being  so. 
That  she  was  fond  of  him  she  could  not  conceal  from 
herself;  indeed,  she  did  not  wish  to,  but  that  her  fond 
ness  for  him  was  sufficient  to  make  her  willing  to  marry 
him  she  doubted  greatly.  Particularly  when  she  was 
with  him,  did  she  feel  the  power  he  had  over  her;  it 
seemed  as  though  he  had  but  to  pipe  for  her  to  dance. 
And  her  very  recognition  of  this  power  made  her  shrink 
from  exposing  herself  to  its  influence. 

She  was  a  very  proud  girl,  jealous  of  her  independ 
ence.  Something  in  her  made  her  prize  it  far  beyond 
her  ability  to  justify  it  on  any  reasonable  grounds. 
She  simply  wanted  to  retain  it,  and,  as  his  wife,  even 
as  his  fiancee,  she  felt  that  it  would  go  from  her.  She 
was  sure  that,  the  die  once  cast,  she  would  be  utterly 
dependent  upon  him,  that  there  would  be  loosened 

200 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  201 

within  her  emotions  which  she  held  to  be  not  exactly 
ignoble,  but  perhaps  unworthy. 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  she  had  at  first  repelled  his 
advances,  and,  when  he  pressed  them  notwithstanding, 
that  she  had  pleaded  for  time  and  had  finally  made  him 
accept  the  delay  of  one  year  in  which  she  was  to  make 
up  her  mind.  Since  that  agreement  had  been  made  he 
visited  her  at  irregular  intervals;  irregular  because  she 
frequently  refused  to  allow  him  to  come  when  he 
proposed  it.  She  felt  that  she  could  not  hold  to  her 
determination  if  he  pressed  her  too  often.  And  he 
continued  to  be  an  ardent  suitor;  even  when  he  held 
to  the  letter  of  their  agreement,  his  mere  presence  was 
an  active  advocate  of  his  cause,  his  words  adding  but 
little  force  to  the  mute  appeal  of  his  personality. 

Perhaps  Ruth  shrank  from  appearing  with  him  in 
public  because  she  felt  that,  hi  doing  so,  she  was  taking 
the  chance  of  publishing  an  attachment  which  she 
was  most  desirous  of  concealing,  certainly  until  she 
had  reached  a  definite  conclusion.  She  would  have  been 
compelled  to  admit  that  this  was  rather  a  silly  idea, 
had  she  been  put  to  the  test,  but,  since  she  never 
mentioned  it,  she  was  not  called  upon  to  defend  it. 
She  had  only  consented  this  time  because,  literally, 
she  had  run  out  of  excuses. 

Pemberton  followed  her  down  the  aisle  of  the  audi 
torium  with  pride.  To  him,  she  was  the  most  beautiful 
woman  in  the  world,  and  he  felt  that  she  must  be  so 


202  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

to  everyone  who  had  eyes  to  see.  He  was  not  an  observ 
ant  man,  particularly  with  regard  to  details  of  women's 
dress,  and,  had  he  looked  away  from  her,  he  would  have 
been  unable  to  remember  a  single  detail  of  her  attire. 
All  he  knew  of  it  was  that  it  set  off  and  accentuated  her 
great  beauty.  In  fact,  she  was  dressed  very  well, 
although  very  simply,  and  she  was  really  a  very  good 
looking  girl,  much  above  the  average. 

All  through  the  performance  he  was  so  conscious 
of  her  presence  at  his  side  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  he  maintained  his  interest  in  the  play.  He  was  not 
much  given  to  going  to  the  theatre;  he  could  never  get 
over  its  unreality  and  the  stronger  the  bid  it  made  for 
emotion,  the  colder  it  left  him. 

Not  so  his  companion.  She  yielded  herself  with  aban 
don  to  the  play.  She  did  not  analyze,  she  did  not  ques 
tion  so  long  as  the  probabilities  were  not  too  greatly 
disregarded  and  the  acting  was  passable.  Several  times 
he  turned  to  look  at  her  and  was  amused  and  pleased 
by  her  deep  absorption  in  what  was  going  on  upon  the 
stage.  And  as,  from  time  to  time,  he  looked  at  her, 
totally  unconscious  of  his  glance,  he  wondered  what  it 
was  that  made  him  desire  her  so  ardently.  Why  was  it 
held  for  her  to  be  the  one  woman  who  had  ever  been 
able  to  dominate  his  thought.  He  could  find  many 
virtues  in  her,  much  that  was  admirable  and  praise 
worthy,  but  he  knew  that  there  must  be  many  other 
girls  who  were  similarly  gifted,  perhaps  even  more 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  203 

generously  endowed  than  she,  and  he  knew  that  the 
reason  was  not  here. 

It  was  subtler  than  that  because  he  knew  that  he  had 
not  chosen  her.  His  desire  for  her  had  imposed  itself 
upon  him  so  thoroughly,  so  completely  that  he  was 
sure  that  it  would  persist  in  the  face  of  any  discourage 
ment.  He  was  confident,  were  they  ever  to  marry, 
that  he  must  find  in  her,  in  the  intimacy  of  conjugal 
life,  traits  and  ideas  that  would  not  please  him,  some, 
even,  that  might  displease  him;  but  still  he  would  want 
her,  would  always  want  her.  Perhaps  it  was  even  the 
admixture  of  these  elements  that  made  her  so  utterly 
charming  to  him. 

Between  the  acts,  he  listened  to  her  remarks  about 
the  play  and  the  actors  with  the  greatest  pleasure. 
He  marvelled  at  the  keenness  of  her  criticism,  at  the 
accuracy  of  her  appreciation,  even  though  her  standards 
were  so  far  removed  from  his.  She  spoke  modestly  but 
with  conviction,  and,  as  he  listened,  he  found  himself 
envying  the  freshness,  the  unspoiled  ingenuousness  of 
her  attitude. 

After  the  theatre,  he  took  her  to  a  fashionable 
restaurant  for  supper.  He  had  not  mentioned  the  matter 
to  her;  he  simply  took  her  acquiescence  for  granted.  She 
went  with  him  without  taking  thought  and  it  was  only 
when  they  had  actually  entered  the  restaurant  that 
it  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  being  led  by  him  without 
question,  by  the  force  of  his  dominating  personality, 


204  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

and  it  piqued  her  although  she  gave  no  sign  of  it. 
It  would  always  be  like  this,  she  thought;  she  would 
always  be  subject  to  him,  dependent  upon  him  for  her 
every  course  of  action  without  question,  without 
protest.  And  he  would  wield  his  sway  over  her  without 
effort,  without  even  conscious  determination. 

But  these  were  but  transitory  thoughts  and  she  gave 
herself  up  to  the  pleasure  of  the  adventure,  for  to  Ruth, 
despite  her  twenty-five  years,  this  whole  evening's 
experience  was  an  adventure.  She  had  gone  to  the 
theatre  with  men  before  this  and  had  been  entertained 
by  them  at  supper,  but  never  had  there  been  present 
any  element  which  engaged  her  affections.  With  one 
exception,  none  of  her  former  escorts  had  ever  had  any 
opportunity  to  make  known  to  her  any  aspiration  he 
might  have  had  to  hold  a  position  in  her  regard.  The 
exception  was  Horace  Gerson,  who  had  let  it  be  seen 
very  clearly  that  the  smallest  encouragement  would 
bring  him  suppliant  to  her  feet.  But  he  bored  Ruth 
beyond  measure,  she  accepted  a  moderate  amount  of 
his  attention  only  because  her  mother  was  continually 
making  opportunities  for  him.  At  that,  Ruth  barely 
treated  him  civilly,  but  he  persisted  nevertheless. 

Pemberton  amused  her  greatly  by  his  remarks  about 
the  people  they  saw  around  them.  His  sense  of  humor 
was  of  a  very  special  kind;  it  manifested  itself  in  caustic, 
rather  sardonic  comment  on  the  weaknesses  of  his  fellow 
men.  His  smile  was  peculiar,  it  seemed  rather  wry  to 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  205 

Ruth,  even  as  she  laughed  at  his  trenchant  observations. 
Suddenly  she  remembered  that  she  had  never  really 
heard  him  laugh  openly,  freely,  as  most  men  do.  His 
laugh  always  seemed  to  be  a  concession,  a  conscious 
action  undertaken  with  purpose. 

But  even  while  she  remembered  this,  she  gave  herself 
up  completely  to  his  mood  and  entered  into  the  spirit 
of  his  shrewd  comment.  How  keen  he  was,  she  thought, 
how  superior  to  the  majority  of  men  who  filled  the 
restaurant,  many  of  them  undoubtedly  idlers,  with  no 
serious  purpose  in  life. 

A  trio  of  army  officers  entered  the  restaurant  and 
seated  themselves  at  a  table  near  them.  They  were 
splendid  looking  young  fellows,  in  the  pink  of  condition, 
wearing  their  simple  uniforms  with  grace  and  distinc 
tion.  Ruth  found  them  very  attractive  and  called  Pem- 
berton's  attention  to  them. 

"Don't  you  think  they're  fine-looking  boys?"  she 
asked. 

Pemberton  turned  and  looked  at  them  fixedly  for  a 
moment. 

"Yes,  they  are,"  he  said.  "And  they've  got  the  right 
kind  of  clothes  on,  too." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked. 

"I  mean  that  every  able-bodied  man,  who  can  possi 
bly  do  it,  should  be  in  uniform.  We've  got  a  big  job  on 
hand  in  this  war  and  the.  only  way  to  put  it  through  is 
to  get  at  it,  and  get  at  it  right.  I  feel  like  a  slacker 
myself." 


206  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"But  not  everybody  can  go,"  said  Ruth  in  dismay. 
The  thought  of  his  going  away  caused  her  pain,  a  pain 
so  sudden,  so  unexpected  that  she  was  not  conscious 
that  she  had  shown  her  feeling.  Indeed,  she  had  not 
herself  known  until  that  moment  just  how  much  her 
sense  of  security  was  based  on  the  knowledge  that  he 
was  at  hand  when  wanted. 

"Of  course  not,"  he  answered.  "Not  everybody  can 
go  and  fight,  but  actual  fighting's  only  one  part  of  the 
game.  For  every  actual  fighting  man  there  must  be 
about  a  dozen  doing  other  things.  You  know  a  soldier 
has  to  eat,  travel,  wear  clothes,  carry  arms,  use  ammu 
nition.  And  behind  all  of  these  things  there  has  to  be 
organization:  Clerks,  typewriters,  bookkeepers,  adver 
tising.  It's  just  a  big  business  after  all  and  the  only 
trouble  is  that  you  don't  really  have  time  to  build  up 
your  organization,  everything's  wanted  at  once.  And 
then  there's  politics  in  it.  Unfit  men  get  in  the  way  of 
capable  ones  and  gum  the  game.  And  tradition,  and 
everything  that  causes  delay  and  waste.  Oh!  it  makes 
me  mad  to  think  about  it." 

Ruth  looked  at  him  in  admiring  wonder.  Never  had 
she  seen  him  more  earnest,  more  animated.  After  a 
short  pause,  she  said  to  him: 

"I  didn't  imagine  you  felt  so  strongly  about  it  as 
that." 

"It's  funny,  isn't  it?"  he  answered. 

"Funny!  how?"  she  queried. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  207 

"You  know,"  he  said,  seriously.  "If  you  think  it  out 
calmly  and  dispassionately,  you  can't  find  any  real 
reason  for  what  people  call  patriotism.  I  hate  the  word." 

Ruth  interrupted.  "Who  was  it  that  said  that 
'Patriotism  is  the  last  refuge  of  a  scoundrel'?"  she  asked. 

"I  don't  know.  I  never  heard  it  before,  but  it  says 
exactly  what  I  was  thinking  about.  You  hear  a  lot  of 
white-livered  crooks  talking  about  patriotism,  and  love 
of  country  and  all  that,  and  you  wonder  whether  they're 
hypocrites  or  just  stupid  asses.  I've  thought  about  it  a 
lot,  and  I  can't  see  why  my  country  should  be  better 
than  any  other  just  because  I  happened  to  be  born  in 
it.  And  that,  when  it's  all  boiled  down,  is  about  what  it 
amounts  to.  If  this  is  a  better  country  than  any  other, 
there's  no  particular  credit  to  me  for  having  been  born 
in  it,  I  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  I  suppose  the 
Germans  feel  the  same  way  as  other  people  and  I  don't 
blame  them.  But  here's  what  gets  me :  I  know  there's  no 
real  reason  for  loving  your  country  and  wanting  to  do 
your  part  when  there's  trouble,  but  the  fact  is  that  I 
do — and  I  want  to  take  my  part,  too." 

Ruth's  eyes  glistened  as  she  said,  "I  think  it's  fine 
of  you  to  feel  that  way.  But  don't  you  think  that  what 
you're  doing  is  important;  don't  you  think  that  some 
people  have  to  keep  things  moving  while  the  others  do 
the  fighting,  so  that  the  business  of  the  country  doesn't 
stop?" 

"Of  course,"  he  answered.  "Some  things,  necessary 


208  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

to  the  war,  must  be  kept  going.  But  they  don't  have  to 
be  pushed  as  they  would  be  in  ordinary  times.  Our  con 
cern  could  get  along  without  me  and  I  could  help 
in  some  real  war  work.  I've  been  thinking  that — " 

But  Ruth  interrupted  him  again.  "No  one  could  run 
our  business  as  well  as  you  do  and  you  know  it." 

"No,  I  don't,"  he  answered  and  then  paused,  his 
attention  having  suddenly  been  attracted  by  theentrance 
of  a  man  and  woman  who  took  seats  near  them.  "Do 
you  see  that  man  that  just  sat  down,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone. 

Ruth  followed  his  glance.  "Yes,"  she  said. 

"  That's  William  Cartwright,  thebigshipbuilder."  And 
he  began  to  talk  about  him,  telling  her  of  big  deals  that 
Cartwright  had  undertaken.  After  that,  their  talk  went 
to  other  subjects  which  occupied  them  until  they  left 
the  restaurant. 

In  the  cab,  on  the  way  home,  they  were  silent  for  a 
while,  but  presently  Ruth  said: 

"I've  had  a  lovely  time  this  evening.  I'm  awfully  glad 
I  came." 

Pemberton  was  delighted.  Her  tone,  more  than  her 
words,  gave  him  the  feeling  that  he  had  come  nearer 
to  her  tonight  than  ever  before. 

"I've  enjoyed  it,  too,"  he  answered,  simply.  "I — " 
but  the  words  would  not  come.  For  once,  he  was  at  a 
loss,  and,  instinctively,  his  hand  sought  hers,  and,  having 
gained  it,  he  was  transported  by  a  gentle  return  of  the 
pressure  with  which  he  grasped  it. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  209 

"Ruth,"  he  said,  his  voice  husky  with  emotion,  "you 
do  want  me,  don't  you?" 

"Oh!  Fred,"  she  said,  "don't  ask  me  now,  please." 
She  tried  to  withdraw  her  hand,  but  he  held  it  firmly  for 
a  moment.  Then  he  released  it,  and,  putting  his  arm 
around  her  neck,  drew  her  face  to  his.  She  scarcely 
resisted,  and,  as  he  kissed  her,  all  of  her  resistance 
vanished  and  she  returned  his  caress  with  an  ardor  which 
took  him  by  storm. 

"Oh!  Ruth,"  was  all  he  said. 

But  she,  feeling  the  imminence  of  defeat,  regained 
control  of  herself  by  a  great  effort,  and  drew  away  from 
him.  She  was  dismayed,  frightened,  angry  with  herself. 
She  knew  that  she  wanted  him,  that  her  body  cried  for 
him,  but  she  had  felt  this  all  along.  This  was  the  very 
thing  which  she  had  dreaded;  this  would  make  her  his 
slave.  She  feared  her  own  passion,  and  summoning  every 
bit  of  resolution  of  which  she  was  capable,  crushing  within 
her  the  imperious  call  of  her  blood,  she  said,  as  coldly  as 
she  could: 

"You're  not  fair.  You're  not  true  to  your  promise. 
I'll  never  go  out  with  you  again."  She  looked  out  of  the 
cab  window,  away  from  him. 

Pemberton  was  amazed  beyond  the  power  of  expres 
sion  and  sat  there  moodily.  He  had  not  acted  with 
intention,  he  had  simply  been  carried  away.  And  as  he 
gradually  became  calmer,  he  tried  to  tell  himself  that 
he  had  not  acted  well,  but  there  was  no  conviction  in  it. 


210  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

He  did  not  speak  for  several  minutes  and  then  only 
when  he  had  decided  upon  the  course  which  he  believed 
would  most  likely  repair  the  damage  to  her  feelings. 

"Please  forgive  me,  Ruth,"  he  said  contritely.  "I 
really  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing,  I  was  simply 
carried  away.  It  won't  happen  again." 

"How  do  I  know?"  she  asked  with  a  touch  of  disdain. 
"How  do  I  know  you  won't  be  'carried  away'  again? 
I  guess  the  best  plan  would  be  not  to  expose  you  to  the 
temptation."  She  managed  to  affect  a  scorn  which  she 
surely  did  not  feel.  Oh!  if  she  only  could  be  like  other 
girls,  she  thought,  and  give  herself  to  this  man  whom 
she  wanted  above  all  others. 

"Please,  Ruth,"  he  said,  and  there  was  no  doubt  of 
his  contrition.  "Don't  talk  like  that.  I'm  awfully  sorry." 

But  she  was  obdurate  and  would  not  answer.  His  con 
trition  went  and  he  was  angry. 

"Well,  if  you  won't  take  my  word,"  he  said,  "I'll  see 
that  there's  no  occasion  for  further  temptation.  I've 
been  wanting  to  go  into  the  service  for  several  months, 
and  the  only  thing  that  kept  me  out  of  it  was  you;  I 
didn't  want  to  go  away  from  you.  But  now,  my  mind's 
made  up,  I'll  take  steps  at  once." 

There  was  no  doubting  that  he  meant  every  word,  and 
Ruth,  who  now  knew  that  above  everything  else  she 
did  not  want  him  to  leave,  turned  to  him  again  and  laid 
her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"Fred,"  she  said,  cajolingly,  "will  you  really  promise 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  211 

not  to  do  such  a  thing  again  until — until  I've  finallymade 
up  my  mind?" 

"What's  the  use?"  he  asked  quietly,  but  within  him 
he  triumphed. 

"Will  you  promise?"  she  asked,  her  hand  still  on 
his  arm. 

"Yes,"  he  answered. 

"And  will  you  stay  here,  and  not  enlist?"  she  asked 
coaxingly. 

He  looked  at  her,  but  her  head  was  down,  he  could  not 
see  her  face  in  the  half  light. 

"Yes,"  he  said  again. 

For  the  rest  of  the  ride,  but  a  few  minutes,  they  were 
silent,  but  her  hand  still  rested  on  his  arm. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ON  the  following  Monday  afternoon,  McCabe 
called  on  Hardwick.  The  latter  had  had  a 
bad  day,  due  principally  to  the  receipt  of  a 
bill  from  the  undertaker,  which  seemed  enormous. 
The  trip  to  the  college  and  sundry  other  expenses  which 
had  to  be  paid  in  cash  had  left  Hardwick  without 
money  at  a  time  when  he  needed  a  considerable  amount 
to  pay  pressing  bills.  His  overdue  insurance  premium 
was  still  unpaid  and,  unless  he  acted  on  this  imme 
diately,  his  policy  would  lapse.  Naturally,  he  had  been 
borrowing  the  reserve  as  fast  as  it  accumulated,  using 
the  loans  to  pay  new  premiums,  so  that  there  was  no 
negotiable  equity  in  it.  He  must  have  money;  he  must 
get  it  somewhere,  somehow.  All  day  long  this  idea  had 
been  in  his  mind,  upsetting  him,  making  him  restless 
and  incapable  of  concentrating  his  mind  on  his  work. 
The  strenuous  effort  he  had  put  on  the  catalogue 
during  the  preceding  week  had  had  the  effect  of  for 
warding  that  work  considerably,  and,  had  he  been 
untroubled  otherwise,  he  would  have  felt  hopeful  about 
the  successful  completion  of  the  book  within  the 
stipulated  time.  But  his  mood  made  every  prospect 
dark,  and  to-day  he  was  sorry  that  he  had  ever  under 
taken  the  work.  He  was  sure  it  would  be  a  colossal 
failure  in  its  every  aspect;  the  work  still  to  be  done 

212 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  213 

upon  it  seemed  enormous,  beyond  the  capability  of 
anyone  living  to  complete  within  the  required  time. 

Two  of  the  printers  had  finally  submitted  their  bids 
for  the  work  and  the  others  had  promised  to  have 
them  in  during  the  day.  The  two  that  had  been  received 
were  largely  in  excess  of  the  greatest  estimate  which 
he  had  made  and  this  was  another  thorn  in  his  side. 
Unfortunately  these  bids  came  from  the  printers  whose 
prices  usually  ran  low.  It  looked  very  much  as  though 
he  would  be  compelled  to  go  to  Pemberton  and  tell  him 
that  they  would  have  to  add  at  least  another  thousand 
dollars  to  their  catalogue  appropriation.  This  came  at 
an  unfavorable  moment  because  Pemberton  had  given 
orders,  within  the  last  few  days,  to  restrict  their 
expenditures  for  advertising  to  the  lowest  possible 
limit,  in  conformity  with  the  wish  of  the  War  Industries 
Board. 

When  McCabe's  name  was  sent  hi  to  him,  Hardwick's 
first  impulse  was  to  deny  himself  to  him  on  the  plea  of 
being  too  busy,  but  he  reflected  that  this  would  but 
postpone  the  inevitable  and  he  consented  to  see  him. 

McCabe  had  come  to  talk  about  the  catalogue. 
After  the  necessary  preliminaries,  he  asked: 

"How  would  you  like  to  save  about  eight  hundred 
dollars  on  this  job?" 

"How?"  queried  Hardwick,  suspicious  at  once. 

"You've  specified  Snowdrift  Enamel  for  the  book, 
haven't  you?" 


214  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Sure,"  answered  Hardwick,  "go  on." 

"Well,  you  know  what  the  price  of  it  is,  don't  you?" 

"Twelve  cents." 

"That's  right.  Snowdrift  is  a  good  paper,  I've  got 
nothing  to  say  against  it,  but  it's  no  better  than  a 
number  of  others.  Just  because  it's  well  known  they 
charge  a  big  price  for  it,  and  they're  as  independent 
as  hogs  on  ice.  No  matter  what  you  do,  you  can't 
budge  the  price,  big  lot  or  little  lot.  If  it's  over  a  ton 
and  less  than  a  carload,  you've  got  to  pay  twelve 
cents."  McCabe  paused  and  glanced  at  Hardwick.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  who  habitually  look  everywhere 
except  at  the  person  to  whom  they  happen  to  be 
speaking.  It  was  only  at  intervals  that  McCabe  looked 
one  straight  in  the  eye,  and  then  his  roving  glance 
rested  for  only  a  moment. 

"Well?"  asked  Hardwick. 

"Well,"  repeated  McCabe,  "I've  got  the  refusal  of  a 
fine  lot  of  paper  for  your  book,  every  bit  as  good  as 
Snowdrift  and,  if  anything,  a  little  better,  and  I'm  in 
a  position  to  save  you  eight  hundred  dollars  on  that 
item.  What  do  you  think  of  that?"  He  looked  at 
Hardwick  triumphantly. 

But  Hardwick  was  not  moved  to  any  appreciable 
extent. 

"What  paper  is  it?"  he  asked,  coldly. 

"What's  the  difference?"  asked  McCabe,  rather 
uneasily.  "If  I  guarantee  the  result  on  it,  isn't  that 
enough?" 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  215 

"No,"  answered  Hardwick.  "If  I  opened  up  that 
specification  and  let  every  printer  bid  on  the  cheapest 
paper  he  thought  would  pass,  I  guess  I  could  save  more 
than  a  thousand  dollars." 

"The  hell  you  could,"  answered  McCabe  defiantly. 
"You  know  damned  well  that  the  cheapest  thing  on 
the  market  that  would  answer  the  purpose  wouldn't 
save  you  more  than  four  hundred.  You  wouldn't  con 
sider  Excelsior,  would  you?" 

"I  should  say  not,"  answered  Hardwick  emphat 
ically.  "That's  rotten  truck." 

"Sure  it  is,"  McCabe  confirmed,  again  confident. 
"What  I've  got  is  something  special,  I  can't  let  you 
know  whose  paper  it  is,  I  promised,  but  here's  a  sample. 
What  do  you  think  of  it?"  He  took  a  long  envelope 
from  his  inside  pocket  and  extracted  a  folded  piece  of 
glossy  coated  paper.  He  handed  it  to  Hardwick,  who 
examined  it  carefully. 

"It  looks  pretty  good,"  commented  Hardwick 
grudgingly,  and  then  was  silent.  McCabe  saw  that  it 
was  his  cue  to  await  some  further  word  from  the  other 
and  also  remained  silent.  When,  after  a  short  pause, 
Hardwick  spoke,  McCabe  was  much  surprised. 

"Say,  Mac,"  he  said  in  a  friendly  tone,  quite  different 
from  the  grudging  air  which  had  marked  his  concession 
of  the  apparently  acceptable  quality  of  McCabe's 
sample,  "did  you  ever  do  anything  about  that  advertis 
ing  copy  you  wanted  me  to  write  for  you?"  Hardwick's 


216  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

voice  was  very  low,  his  manner  confidential.  McCabe 
was  delighted,  but  his  manner  in  replying  gave  no 
indication  of  his  inward  emotion. 

"Why,  no,"  he  said,  "I've  brought  the  stuff  with  me. 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  it." 

"I've  been  thinking  over  the  matter,"  said  Hardwick, 
slowly,  endeavoring  to  affect  an  off-hand  manner  which 
would  hide  his  uneasy  conscience,  "and  I  think  I  can 
handle  it  for  you  next  Sunday  and,  if  there's  time 
enough,  every  Sunday  until  the  work  is  finished." 

"There's  no  great  hurry.  If  you  could  give  me  the 
first  part  of  it  next  Monday,  I  could  let  you  have  four 
or  five  weeks  to  finish  it.  Do  you  want  to  see  it  now?" 

"No,"  answered  Hardwick  hastily.  "There's  no  use 
publishing  the  affair,  is  there?" 

"Certainly  not,"  assented  the  other.  "When  can  I 
see  you  about  it?" 

"Meet  me  at  O'Neill's  at  five-thirty.  I'll  buy  you  a 
drink." 

"You're  on,"  said  McCabe,  with  a  smile. 

"This  coated  looks  pretty  good,"  said  Hardwick. 
"Is  this  a  sample  of  the  actual  lot?" 

"Yes,  it's  almost  the  exact  size  we  want.  We're 
in  great  luck  to  run  into  it."  He  spoke  as  though  the 
order  had  actually  been  placed  with  him.  Hardwick 
noted  it  and  was  moved  to  call  his  attention  to  the  fact 
that  it  wasn't  at  all  likely  that  McCabe  would  succeed 
in  getting  the  business,  but  he  could  not  bring  himself 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  217 

to  talk  about  it  now.  There  was  plenty  of  time  for  that, 
he  told  himself. 

"Say,  Mac,"  he  said  instead,  "you'll  have  to  get 
your  bid  in  if  you  want  it  considered.  They'll  all  be  in 
to-day  and  I  expect  the  job  will  be  let  to-morrow." 

"Will  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning  do?" 

"I  ought  to  have  it  to-day,  but  if  you'll  promise  to 
have  it  here  to-morrow  morning  before  ten,  I'll  wait  for 
you.  But  no  longer." 

"All  right.  Have  you  all  your  bids?" 

"All  but  two,  and  they're  promised  for  this  afternoon 
sure." 

Just  then  the  telephone  rang,  and  Hardwick  answered. 

"Tell  him  I'll  see  him  in  a  minute,"  he  said,  and, 
hanging  up  the  receiver,  turned  to  McCabe. 

"That's  Johnny  Albright  with  his  now." 

"I'll  be  going,"  said  McCabe,  rising.  "See  you  at 
O'Neill's  at  five-thirty." 

"All  right.  So  long,"  answered  Hardwick  and  his 
visitor  departed. 

Over  their  drink,  which  they  took  in  an  alcove  which 
screened  them  from  general  observation,  McCabe 
went  over  the  details  of  the  matter  which  he  wished 
Hardwick  to  work  up  for  him.  When  he  had  finished, 
the  latter  said: 

"There's  nothing  very  hard  about  that.  I  thought  it 
would  be  more  of  a  job."  He  was  disappointed.  This 
could  not  be  worth  more  than  a  hundred  dollars  at  the 


218  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

most,  and  he  felt  that  three  hundred  was  the  smallest 
amount  that  would  help  him  out  of  his  present  difficulty. 

"This  is  only  the  beginning,"  said  McCabe,  who  had 
divined  Hardwick's  disappointment.  "There'll  be  a 
lot  more." 

"Oh!"  said  Hardwick,  relieved,  and  was  silent.  He 
was  wondering  whether  he  might  ask  for  an  advance 
payment.  But  McCabe  anticipated  him. 

"Would  you  like  something  on  account?"  he  asked. 

"I  could  use  a  little  money  right  now," said  Hardwick, 
as  though  it  had  just  occurred  to  him. 

"How  much  would  you  like?" 

Hardwick  wished  he  could  ask  for  five  hundred 
dollars  but  did  not  dare.  Necessity,  however,  compelled 
him  to  make  it  three  hundred,  although  he  felt  that  it 
was  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  value  of  the  work  now 
in  hand. 

"Three  hundred,"  repeated  McCabe.  "That'll  be  all 
right."  He  was  surprised  at  the  amount,  but  pleased  as 
well.  He  knew  that  he  could  get  it  all  back  indirectly. 
"I  haven't  that  much  on  me  now,"  he  continued,  "will 
to-morrow  do?" 

"Sure,  "answered  Hardwick.  He  was  becoming  exceed 
ingly  uncomfortable,  although  he  told  himself  that  this 
was  a  perfectly  legitimate  transaction.  "Take  lunch 
with  me  to-morrow  at  Hunter's.  I'll  meet  you  at  twelve- 
thirty." 

"All  right.  Twelve-thirty." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  219 

A  short  silence  ensued. 

"Did  you  get  all  of  your  bids  in?"  asked  McCabe. 

"Yes,  the  last  one  came  just  before  I  left  the  office." 

"How  do  they  run,  pretty  high?" 

"I  should  say  so,  much  higher  than  I  expected.  You're 
going  to  let  me  have  yours  by  ten  to-morrow  at  the 
latest,  aren't  you?" 

"Sure,  I've  got  it  all  figured  out.  I  only  want  to  go 
over  it  for  safety." 

"How  much  is  it?"  asked  Hardwick.  He  hoped  it 
would  be  so  high  that  it  would  be  out  of  the  question  to 
consider  it.  It  would  be  very  satisfactory  to  be  able  to 
go  to  McCabe  and  tell  him  that  he  had  done  everything 
he  could  to  have  the  order  go  to  him,  but  his  price  made 
it  impossible.  As  matters  now  stood  between  them,  he 
did  not  see  how  he  could  fail  to  consider  his  bid  seriously 
if  it  were  low  enough. 

McCabe  had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  this  order. 
There  was  no  good  reason  why  he  should  have  been  so 
bent  upon  it,  in  fact,  he  would  have  had  difficulty  in 
explaining  his  great  desire  for  it,  but,  nevertheless,  the 
desire  and  the  determination  were  there.  He  had  esti 
mated  the  job  as  worth  about  ninety-five  hundred 
dollars,  although  he  would  have  been  quite  willing  to 
accept  the  order  at  nine  thousand,  reckoning  upon  add 
ing  a  sufficient  amount  of  extras  to  cover  this  difference 
and  any  advance  he  might  make  to  Hardwick  ostensibly 
to  pay  for  the  writing  of  advertising  copy  which  he  had 


220  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

ordered  from  him.  At  the  same  time,  he  did  not  wish  to 
accept  the  order  at  ninety-five  if  there  was  a  possibility 
of  getting  more.  McCabe  was  strictly  an  opportunist;  he 
sold  his  printing  for  what  he  could  get  for  it,  taking 
orders  sometimes  at  ridiculously  low  prices  compared 
to  those  of  his  competitors.  But,  in  the  long  run,  he  did 
very  well.  He  had  no  scruples  to  prevent  him  from  mak 
ing  any  possible  substitution  of  materials,  or  any  reduc 
tion  in  the  quality  and  amount  of  labor.  Printing  is 
bought  in  the  main  by  people  who  do  not  understand  it, 
and  the  opportunity  for  practices  such  as  have  just 
been  described  is  very  great.  In  spite  of  this  fact,  very 
few  printers  choose  this  dubious  road  to  wealth  if,  in 
fact,  any  printer  ever  chooses  any  road  to  wealth.  It  is 
a  notoriously  poor  business  from  the  standpoint  of  profit. 

When  Hardwick  asked  McCabe  what  his  price  was, 
the  latter  answered  promptly: 

"It  comes  to  about  thirteen  thousand  dollars." 

His  ruse  was  entirely  successful. 

"Thirteen  thousand  dollars!"  repeated  Hardwick  In 
great  surprise.  "You  must  have  made  a  mistake  in  your 
figures." 

"I  don't  think  so,"  answered  McCabe,  seriously. 
"I've  gone  over  it  very  carefully." 

"You  must  have  made  a  buck  somewhere.  You're 
nearly  three  thousand  dollars  high." 

"I  can't  see  it,"  said  McCabe  slowly.  "I  made  that 
estimate  myself  and  I  went  over  every  item  twice.  I'm 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  221 

sure  there's  no  error  in  it.  Maybe  your  low  man  made 
the  mistake.  Aren't  your  other  bids  about  the  same 
as  mine?" 

"No,"  said  Hardwick.  "Of  course  I  can't  tell  you  the 
bids,  but  there  isn't  five  hundred  dollars  between  the 
highest  and  lowest."  As  the  bids  ran  from  ten  thousand 
two  hundred  to  ten  thousand  six  hundred,  he  was  well 
within  the  truth. 

McCabe  now  had  the  facts  he  wanted.  He  suspected 
that  it  would  be  necessary  for  him  to  quote  a  price  well 
under  the  others,  as  he  knew  that  his  reputation  with 
the  Prescott  Company  was  not  very  good.  He  had  done 
some  work  for  them  over  a  year  ago  and  had  had  con 
siderable  trouble  in  collecting  his  bill  for  extras.  He 
decided  to  quote  nine  thousand  and  two  hundred,  but 
said  as  he  got  up  to  go: 

"Well,  Harry,  I'll  go  over  the  figures  again  to-morrow 
morning  before  I  send  them  in  and  make  sure  that  I 
haven't  made  any  mistakes.  I  can't  see  how  I  could  have 
made  any,  I  certainly  was  very  careful." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

McCABE  was  as  good  as  his  promise  and  pre 
sented  his  bid  for  the  printing  of  the  catalogue 
at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning.  Hardwick 
was  surprised,  when  he  read  it,  to  find  that  the  price 
quoted  was  ninety-two  hundred  dollars.  He  looked 
questioningly  at  McCabe,  who  sat  beside  his  desk, 
smiling. 

"You're  wondering  at  the  difference,  aren't  you?" 
said  McCabe. 

Hardwick  still  looked  at  him  questioningly,  so  he 
continued: 

"The  silliest  mistakes  you  ever  saw.  Two  of  them,  one 
in  addition  and  the  other  in  multiplication.  It's  a  good 
thing  none  of  my  clerks  made  that  estimate.  He'd  be 
without  a  job.  That's  all  I've  got  to  say." 

Hardwick's  suspicions  were  aroused.  Just  what  was 
McCabe  driving  at?  he  wondered;  but  none  of  his 
suspicion  showed  in  the  tone  in  which  he  said: 

"Well,  Mac,  much  obliged.  I'll  let  you  know  how  it 
comes  out." 

"All  right,"  answered  McCabe,  and  left.  He  did  not 
think  it  necessary  to  go  into  any  argument  on  the 
subject.  He  was  willing  to  await  their  interview  at 
Hunter's  at  twelve-thirty. 

After  he  had  gone,  Hardwick  called  Ruth  and 
222 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  223 

handed  her  McCabe's  proposal.  She  read  through  it 
quickly,  looking  for  the  price.  When  she  found  it,  she 
read  it  out  loud: 

"Ninety-two  hundred  dollars.  That's  a  very  low 
price  compared  to  the  others." 

"Yes,"  assented  Hardwick.  "Just  how  do  the  others 
run?" 

"I'll  get  them,"  she  answered,  and  went  to  her  desk. 
She  was  back  in  a  moment  and  read  them  off  to  him. 

"Ten  thousand  six  hundred,  ten  thousand  four 
hundred  and  fifty,  ten  thousand  two  hundred  and 
fifty  and  ten  thousand  two  hundred.  He's  a  whole 
thousand  dollars  under  the  lowest." 

"Looks  like  his  order,"  said  Hardwick.  He  made  an 
effort  to  appear  nonchalant,  but  he  was  really  much 
excited. 

"I  don't  think  we  can  afford  to  do  business  with  Mr. 
McCabe,"  said  Ruth  quietly. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked. 

"He  doesn't  stand  very  well  hi  this  establishment. 
We  had  a  rather  disagreeable  experience  with  him  on 
the  last  job  he  did  for  us." 

"What  was  that?"  he  asked.  "Won't  you  sit  down?" 
he  continued  as  he  saw  their  interview  promised  to  be 
longer  than  he  had  expected.  She  did  so,  still  holding 
all  of  the  bids  in  her  hand. 

"I  don't  remember  the  exact  figures,"  she  said,  "but 
Mr.  McCabe  quoted  a  low  price  on  a  job  to  us  and  we 


224  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

gave  him  the  order.  When  his  bill  came  in,  he  over 
charged  us  frightfully  for  a  lot  of  extras,  and,  by  the 
time  we  settled  the  matter,  his  price  was  actually  more 
than  the  highest  bid  we  had  received  in  the  first  place." 

"Extras,"  said  Hardwick,  "what  kind  of  extras?" 

"Oh!  all  kinds.  Alterations  and  changes,  lots  of  them. 
There  was  an  over-run  too,  on  which  he  charged  the  full 
rate.  I  don't  remember  the  exact  details,  but  I  know 
that  Mr.  McNair  said  he  would  never  give  him  another 
order.  The  work  wasn't  very  well  done,  either." 

She  paused  and  looked  at  Hardwick.  He  was  in  a 
quandary.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  McCabe's 
tactics,  having  had  considerable  experience  with  him 
in  the  past.  He  knew  that  McCabe's  price  was  lower 
because  of  the  substitution  of  paper.  It  was  fairly  clear 
to  him  that  the  order  should  go  to  one  of  the  other 
bidders;  the  slight  variation  between  the  higher  bids 
permitted  the  choice  of  any  one  of  them.  But  he  remem 
bered  that  he  was  to  meet  McCabe  at  noon  and  that 
he  was  to  receive  the  advance  of  three  hundred  dollars 
for  the  work  he  was  to  do  for  him.  Oh!  If  only  he  were 
able  to  get  along  without  that  money.  He  wondered 
whether  McCabe  would  advance  it  even  though  his 
bid  were  not  accepted.  He  sat  silent,  tapping  rhyth 
mically  on  his]desk  with  the  end  of  his  pencil.  Ruth  also 
was  silent,  and,  as  he  did  not  speak,  she  began  to 
re-read  McCabe's  proposal,  this  time  carefully. 

"Did  you  notice  this?"  she  said  suddenly,  looking  up. 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  225 

"What?"  asked  Hardwick. 

"It  says:  To  be  printed  on  Snowdrift  Enamel  or 
paper  of  equal  quality/  That  won't  do,  will  it?" 

"Scarcely,"  answered  Hardwick,  "unless,  of  course, 
we  were  shown  that  the  other  paper  was  equal  in  every 
respect." 

"I  wouldn't  trust  Mr.  McCabe  to  make  any  sub 
stitution  of  something  equally  as  good  if  he  wasn't 
watched." 

"You  seem  to  have  it  in  for  McCabe,"  said  Hardwick, 
smiling. 

"No,  I  haven't.  Not  personally,  of  course.  I'm  only 
judging  from  our  experience  with  him." 

"Well,  if  McCabe  gets  this  order,  and  it  looks  as 
though  he  ought  to  have  it,  I'll  guarantee  that  there 
won't  be  any  substitution  of  inferior  material,  and 
that  there  won't  be  any  extras.  You  know  I've  been 
in  the  printing  business  myself  and  I'm  on  to  all  of 
the  tricks  of  the  trade." 

"Don't  you  think,"  asked  Ruth,  "that  we  ought  to 
give  the  other  bidders  a  chance  to  quote  the  same  way?" 

"If  there  was  more  time,  yes,"  answered  Hardwick, 
"but  we  haven't  a  moment  to  lose.  I  can't  afford  to 
put  another  minute  in  on  this  thing.  I'll  send  for 
McCabe  this  afternoon  and  put  it  squarely  up  to  him. 
I'll  insist  on  his  paying  a  big  penalty  for  delay.  I'll 
make  him  submit  every  form  before  he  prints  it.  I  can 
handle  him  all  right  and  I  want  to  save  that  thousand." 


226  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Very  well,"  said  Ruth.  She  felt  that  Hardwick  had 
made  up  his  mind  and  that  further  protest  would  be  not 
only  useless,  but  quite  outside  of  her  authority. 

McCabe  was  awaiting  Hardwick  at  the  restaurant 
when  the  latter  entered  promptly  at  the  appointed  time. 
They  sat  down  together  and  went  through  the  form  of 
general  conversation  for  a  while,  each  curiously  under 
the  necessity  of  masking  his  real  interest,  the  one  in 
the  prospective  advance  and  the  other  in  the  order  he 
wanted. 

When  the  general  conversation  had  persisted  suffi 
ciently  to  satisfy  their  consciences  in  this  respect, 
McCabe  asked: 

"Did  you  come  to  any  decision  about  the  catalogue?" 

"Not  altogether,  but  it  looks  like  your  order." 

McCabe  thrilled  with  triumph.  "That's  good  news," 
he  said. 

"Come  over  this  afternoon  about  four  o'clock  and 
I'll  talk  it  over  with  you." 

"All  right,"  said  McCabe.  "By  the  way,"  he  went  on, 
"I've  brought  the  three  hundred."  He  drew  a  long 
envelope  from  his  inside  pocket  and  passed  it  to  Hard 
wick,  whojmt  it  in  his  own  pocket  without  examination. 

"Do  you  want  a  receipt?"  he  asked. 

"Certainly  not,  Harry.  If  I  couldn't  trust  you,  I'd 
give  up." 

In  spite  of  the  obviousness  of  this  remark,  Hardwick 
could  not  help  feeling  flattered.  He  told  himself  that 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  227 

McCabe  wasn't  a  bad  fellow  after  all,  and  he  would 
certainly  get  the  worth  of  his  money  in  the  quality 
of  the  copy  he  would  receive.  This  was  on  the  surface 
of  his  mind,  but  within,  the  unethical  quality  of  the 
transaction  persisted  in  making  itself  felt.  Not  strongly, 
however,  and  as  Hardwick  dwelt  upon  the  excellence 
of  the  work  he  would  do  for  McCabe,  it  grew  weaker 
and  weaker,  but  did  not  altogether  disappear. 

They  hurried  through  their  lunch  after  this  and  then 
Hardwick  went  to  his  bank  on  the  way  back  to  the  office 
and  deposited  the  money  which  he  had  received.  At 
the  office  he  made  out  checks  for  some  of  the  most 
pressing  of  his  obligations,  after  which  he  put  the  matter 
out  of  his  mind  and  busied  himself  on  the  catalogue.  He 
made  fine  progress,  and,  when  McCabe  arrived,  promptly 
at  four  o'clock,  he  was  in  an  excellent  humor. 

McCabe  agreed  willingly  to  every  condition  which 
Hardwick  put  upon  him  and  at  five  o'clock  departed 
with  the  signed  order.  His  last  words  were: 

"Well,  Harry,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  that  I'll  give  you 
a  job  you'll  be  proud  of." 

Hardwick  now  felt  entirely  justified  in  his  action. 
His  natural  optimism  asserted  itself;  all  difficulties 
vanished  and  he  saw  the  triumph  that  would  be  his 
when  the  book  appeared.  It  all  looked  so  easy  to  him 
to-day  that  he  decided  to  go  home  to  dinner.  His 
original  intention  had  been  to  spend  the  evening  at 
the  office. 


228  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

He  called  his  house  on  the  telephone  and  recognized 
Marian's  voice. 

"Is  mother  home?"  he  asked. 

"No,  she's  been  out  all  day." 

"Well,  when  she  comes  in,  tell  her  I've  changed  my 
mind  about  working  to-night,  and  I'm  coming  home  to 
dinner.  Tell  her  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  what 
I  get,  anything  will  do." 

He  arrived  home  before  Mrs.  Hardwick.  She  came 
in  at  seven  o'clock,  her  usual  benignity  greatly  empha 
sized.  She  was  dressed  in  complete  mourning,  a  new 
gown  which  already  showed  distinct  signs  of  its  owner's 
inattention.  It  was  a  ready-made  affair  which,  though 
expensive,  did  not  look  so,  for  it  did  not  fit,  and  contrary 
to  the  usual  effect  of  black  dresses,  it  accentuated  rather 
than  suppressed  the  magnitude  of  the  proportions  of 
its  wearer. 

"Why,  Henry,  my  dear,"  she  said,  effusively,  "this 
is  a  most  agreeable  surprise.  I'm  very  glad,  for  I  really 
have  some  very  important  news  for  you." 

Hardwick's  good  humor  had  vanished  when  he 
entered  his  home.  It  brought  his  grief  to  the  fore.  In  the 
important  business  of  the  day,  it  had  been  forced  out 
of  his  mind.  He  had  been  cheered  somewhat  by  his 
talk  with  Marian  while  they  were  awaiting  Mrs. 
Hardwick,  but,  to-day,  Marian  herself  seemed  in  lower 
spirits  than  usual,  and  her  evidence  of  affection  for  him, 
always  manifest,  lacked  its  usual  liveliness,  while  Mrs. 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  229 

Hardwick's  obvious  self-satisfaction  distinctly  irritated 
him. 

They  ate  their  dinner,  a  wretched  affair  because  of 
the  execrable  cookery,  to  the  accompaniment  of  Mrs. 
Hardwick's  voice.  She  talked  almost  unceasingly. 

"This  morning,"  she  began,  "Marian's  remark  of  the 
other  evening  came  into  my  mind.  'Why  not,'  I  asked 
myself,  'put  such  talent  as  I  may  possess  hi  the  direction 
of  clear  expression  to  account?'  The  longer  I  thought  of 
the  matter,  the  more  interested  I  became.  Finally,  I 
decided  to  discuss  the  matter  with  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and 
called  her  on  the  telephone.  She  asked  me  to  come  over 
to  her  house  at  once  and  agreed  to  send  her  car  for  me. 
I  went  over  as  soon  as  I  was  dressed  and  we  had  a  long 
talk  on  the  subject.  I  remained  at  her  house  for 
luncheon. 

"After  luncheon  we  continued  our  talk,  discussing 
various  phases  of  the  subject.  At  last,  an  idea  came  to 
me  which  Mrs.  Hutchinson  pronounced  as  really 
brilliant  when  I  communicated  it  to  her.  It  was  no 
more  than  the  proposal  to  deliver  a  series  of  talks  on 
current  topics.  As  we  went  over  the  matter,  we  became 
more  and  more  interested,  and,  finally,  we  decided  that 
it  was  exactly  the  thing  to  do.  We  agreed  that  there 
was  a  large  public  which  would  welcome  and  support 
such  an  effort  and  that,  particularly  now,  with  the 
whole  world  at  war,  with  difficult  questions  of  all  lands 
confronting  the  ablest  statesmen,  this  public  would  be 


230  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

happy  to  have  the  opportunity  to  have  the  true  inward 
ness  of  the  world's  happenings  explained  to  them.  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  said  she  knew  of  no  one  more  capable  in 
this  respect  than  myself  and,  without  undue  vanity,  I 
believe  I  am  rather  well  qualified.  We  at  once  set 
about  the  execution  of  the  project  and — " 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  cried  Hardwick,  amazed 
and  mortified  as  well,  "that  you  are  willing  to  undertake 
such  a  thing  now,  with  this  sorrow  upon  us." 

"Why  not?"  calmly  asked  Mrs.  Hardwick.  "Should  I 
hide  my  head  because  of  our  misfortune?  Should  I 
bewail  my  fate?  No,  a  thousand  times  no.  I  thank  the 
Lord  I  have  the  strength  to  do  my  duty  as  I  see  it.  My 
sorrow  is  none  the  less  on  that  account  and  anyone  who 
would  question  it  would  be  beneath  contempt."  As  she 
spoke  her  voice  was  raised  and,  at  the  end,  she  almost 
shouted. 

Hardwick  did  not  answer.  It  was  impossible,  unnat 
ural,  but  he  had  no  word  to  offer  that  seemed  appro 
priate. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  ate  in  silence  for  a  little  while  and 
then  resumed  her  story. 

"We  decided  that  it  would  scarcely  do  to  begin  before 
the  first  of  the  year,  and  that  it  would  take  all  of  the 
intervening  time  to  secure  a  sufficient  number  of 
subscriptions.  We  selected  Thursday  afternoon  as  a 
most  convenient  time  and  arranged  for  sixteen  talks. 
This  would  take  us  to  the  end  of  April,  which  we  thought 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  231 

long  enough."  She  paused  and  looked  at  her  husband 
for  approval.  But  she  found  nothing  in  his  expression 
that  even  remotely  resembled  it. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  are  actually  going  on  with 
this  thing?"  he  asked,  almost  sternly. 

"I  certainly  do,"  she  answered  with  firmness. 

"And  are  you  going  to  undertake  to  instruct  these 
people,  that  is  if  you  can  find  any  who  will  be  willing 
to  come,  as  to  what  is  going  on  in  the  world?" 

"Precisely  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Hardwick  with  great 
emphasis. 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  tell  them,  pray?"  he 
asked  scornfully. 

"Your  tone,  my  dear  Henry,"  said  his  wife  with  her 
cackle  in  evidence,  "is  not  exactly  complimentary." 
She  was  making  a  great  effort  to  control  herself  and 
spoke  very  slowly.  "Your  tone  is  scarcely  calculated 
to  invite  further  discussion  of  this  matter  with  you. 
Your  petulance  amazes  me,  I  do  not  say  'disappoints 
me/  for  I  am  used  to  it  and  also  to  your  rather  absurd 
view  of  most  things.  However,  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
what  I  would  say  were  I  to  discuss  to-day's  current 
topics.  For  instance,  the  situation  in  Russia  is  most 
peculiar.  The  flight  of  Kerensky  and  the  foundation  of 
a  government  by  Lenine  induces  a  questioning  attitude 
on  the  part  of  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  is  yet  too  early 
to  decide  definitely  as  to  the  causes  which  have  brought 
about  this  new  revolution.  I  may  state,  however,  that 


232  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

it  appears  to  me  no  more  than  a  local  insurrection  in 
the  capital  of  Russia  which  will  undoubtedly  lack 
support  hi  the  provinces  where  the  great  bulk  of  the 
population  Is  found."  She  paused  and  again  looked  for 
approval,  and  again  was  disappointed. 

"They  can  read  all  of  that  in  the  newspapers,"  he 
said  rather  contemptuously,  "if  they're  interested." 

"Ah!"  cried  Mrs.  Hardwick,  "that's  just  it.  They 
won't  read  it  hi  the  newspapers  because  they  wouldn't 
understand  It  If  they  did.  It  requires  explanation.  And 
with  explanation,  the  sort  of  insight  which  I  flatter 
myself  I  shall  be  able  to  furnish,  it  will  become  not 
merely  interesting  but  positively  absorbing.  Consider 
President  Wilson's  wishes  with  reference  to  the  labor 
situation.  Do  you  suppose  that  many  women  read 
that  sort  of  an  article?  I  should  say,  not  one  hi  a 
hundred — " 

"Did  you  read  It?"  interrupted  Hardwick. 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  his  wife  earnestly. 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  it  then?"  he  asked 
triumphantly. 

"Nothing  at  all,"  replied  Mrs.  Hardwick  serenely, 
"except  what  was  contained  in  the  headline.  That 
exactly  proves  my  contention.  If  I,  who  may  claim  at 
least  an  ordinary  interest  hi  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world;  if  I,  therefore,  am  not  led  to  read  such  an  article, 
what  do  you  suppose  is  the  likelihood  that  it  will  be 
read  by  Mrs.  Jones  or  Mrs.  Brown  or  Mrs.  Robinson? 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  233 

But  these  same  women  will  seize  the  opportunity  to 
have  me  tell  them  about  it."  Mrs.  Hard  wick  was  so 
pleased  with  her  demonstration  that  all  traces  of  her 
momentary  sarcastic  attitude  departed  and  she  beamed 
upon  her  spouse. 

"Oh!  Well,"  said  he,  "what's  the  use  of  our  talking 
about  it.  You'll  never  be  able  to  put  it  over." 

"  'Put  it  over',"  quoted  Mrs.  Hardwick.  "Henry, 
my  dear,  I  do  wish  you  would  not  use  these  common 
expressions,  particularly  in  Marian's  hearing.  She 
already  shows  a  propensity,  singular  in  a  child  of  mine, 
to  employ  vulgarisms  such  as  these,  and  she  should, 
therefore,  be  shown  a  better  example.  As  to  my  ability 
to  make  a  success  of  the  project,  you  need  have  no 
fears,  I  shall  see  to  that.  The  only  question  is  just  how 
to  limit  the  attendance.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  I  dis 
cussed  this  aspect  of  the  affair  very  seriously  and  we 
came  finally  to  the  conclusion  to  limit  the  attendance 
to  one  thousand — " 

"One  thousand!"  cried  Hardwick.  "You  must  be 
crazy!" 

But  Mrs.  Hardwick  paid  no  attention  to  his  interrup 
tion  and  went  on  calmly. 

"We  decided  to  rent  Wilberforce  Hall,  which  seats 
exactly  nine  hundred  and  ninety-six  hi  the  auditorium. 
We  have  not  actually  rented  the  hall  for  the  sixteen 
Thursdays  from  January  to  April  inclusive,  but  we 
have  the  refusal  of  nearly  all  of  them  until  to-morrow. 


234  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

Unfortunately,  two  Thursday  afternoons,  one  in 
January  and  one  in  February,  have  already  been 
engaged,  and,  if  it  is  not  possible  to  secure  them,  we 
shall  have  to  select  some  other  day  in  those  weeks." 

Hardwick  was  more  and  more  amazed. 

"You  rented  Wilberforce  Hall  for  sixteen  after 
noons!"  he  cried.  "Do  you  know  what  that  will  cost?" 

"Certainly,"  answered  Mrs.  Hardwick,  as  one  would 
reply  to  a  sick  child,  "I  have  had  no  actual  business 
experience,  but  may  lay  claim  to  some  knowledge  of 
the  elements.  The  rent  for  the  sixteen  afternoons  will 
be  exactly  twelve  hundred  dollars.  I  believe  that 
sixteen  times  seventy-five  is  twelve  hundred." 

"Well,  there's  one  good  thing,"  said  Hardwick, 
bitterly,  "if  they  trust  you,  they  won't  be  able  to 
collect  the  money  from  either  of  us." 

"Have  no  fear  on  that  score,  my  dear  Henry,  no  one 
will  come  to  you  for  any  of  that  money.  You  will  be 
asked  neither  for  money  nor  advice."  Mrs.  Hardwick 
delivered  herself  of  this  with  a  magnificent  gesture, 
and,  rising  from  the  table,  went  out  into  the  kitchen. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

EVELYN  BURCHARD,  when  she  married  L. 
Percival  Sedley  In  1897,  was  a  young  girl 
who  had  been  brought  up  in  the  conventional 
manner  in  vogue  at  that  period  with  families  of  long 
established  standing  and  of  considerable  wealth.  She 
had  no  ideals  of  any  consequence,  no  standards  that 
were  not  utterly  commonplace.  Her  education  had  been 
accomplished  without  developing  any  real  taste  for 
any  of  the  fine  arts.  Her  beauty  and  a  pleasing  manner 
made  her  popular  and  her  marriage  to  a  man  whom 
both  heredity  and  circumstance  had  endowed  with 
great  wealth  had  opened  to  her  a  great  social  career. 
She  had  no  children  and  was  therefore  entirely  free  to 
devote  herself  continuously  to  "society,"  as  it  is  called. 
For  many  years,  the  ceaseless  round  among  the  same 
set  of  people,  varied  by  occasional  trips  to  Europe, 
completely  satisfied  her.  But,  when  she  was  about 
thirty-five,  hi  1912,  to  be  exact,  she  found  that  she  no 
longer  cared  to  participate  in  what  passed  among  her 
set  for  entertainment.  Nor  did  she  enjoy  the  fact  that 
her  maturity  compelled  her  to  take  second  place  with 
respect  to  younger  women.  Besides,  she  was  tired  of 
it.  She  wanted  something  new  and  she  found  it  in  a 
number  of  enterprises  of  a  public  nature.  Her  great 
wealth  and  definite  social  position  procured  for  her  a 

235 


236  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

prominent  place  in  any  undertaking  with  which  she 
associated  herself.  She  also  found  pleasure  in  patronizing 
the  arts,  and,  although  she  really  knew  nothing  of  any 
of  them,  had  no  trouble  in  drawing  to  her  a  large 
number  of  people,  either  active  or  merely  interested  in 
painting,  music  or  literature. 

It  was  through  the  last  of  these  that  she  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Hardwick.  That  enterprising 
lady  had  not  been  slow  to  take  advantage  of  her 
opportunity  to  meet  a  woman  of  such  prominence  as 
Mrs.  Sedley,  and  had  once  succeeded  in  having  her  call 
at  the  Hardwick  house.  That  was  the  occasion  on 
which  the  visiting  card  had  been  secured,  the  card  that, 
apparently  by  mere  accident,  always  topped  the 
collection  on  Mrs.  Hardwick's  tray. 

Through  their  association  in  the  same  Red  Cross 
Auxiliary,  Mrs.  Hardwick  had  the  chance,  as  she 
thought,  to  improve  their  acquaintance  and  had 
actually  succeeded  to  the  point  where  Mrs.  Sedley  had 
felt  impelled  to  pay  a  visit  of  condolence.  Mrs.  Sedley 
was  not  particularly  drawn  to  Mrs.  Hardwick,  but, 
at  the  same  time,  was  much  impressed  by  that  lady's 
volubility  hi  the  exposition  of  her  literary  opinions. 
Knowing  practically  nothing  of  literature  herself,  she 
looked  upon  Mrs.  Hardwick  as  a  woman  of  great 
endowments  in  this  art  and  was  ready  to  place  as  high 
a  valuation  upon  her  erudition  as  that  lady  herself. 

Mrs.    Hardwick    counted    upon    Mrs.    Sedley   for 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  237 

endorsement  of  her  project  to  deliver  her  current  topics 
talks.  Therefore,  on  Wednesday  morning,  immediately 
following  her  discussion  of  the  matter  with  her  husband, 
she  called  Mrs.  Sedley  on  the  telephone  and  obtained 
permission  to  pay  her  a  visit  to  discuss  a  matter  of 
great  importance. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  arrived  at  the  Sedley  house  at  eleven 
o'clock  and  had  but  a  few  minutes  to  wait  before  she 
was  received  by  Mrs.  Sedley. 

She  looked  about  her  after  the  servant  left  her. 
Never,  she  thought,  had  she  been  in  so  beautiful  a 
house.  What  was  it,  she  wondered,  that  gave  It  so 
restful  an  air  that  seemed  to  be  in  perfect  keeping  with 
the  quiet  which  hung  over  the  house,  into  which,  at 
intervals,  came  the  noises  from  the  street,  muffled  as 
though  they  had  come  from  a  great  distance. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  noted  details,  a  chair  here,  a  table 
there,  and  in  separate  details  did  she  seek  the  secret 
of  the  charm  of  the  room.  It  eluded  her,  however,  and 
her  mind  was  already  bent  on  other  things  when  she 
heard  a  step  on  the  stair  and,  in  a  moment,  her  hostess 
had  greeted  her. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Sedley,"  she  said,  unctuously,  as  soon  as 
the  customary  greetings  were  over,  "I  have  come  to 
enlist  your  help  in  a  project  which  I  am  sure  you  will 
instantly  pronounce  as  possessing  great  possibilities  for 
public  benefit.  You  have  met  my  friend,  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son,  I  believe;  Mrs.  Harrod  Hutchinson,  a  woman  of 


238  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

great  discrimination  in  literary  matters.  I  have  dis 
cussed  my  plans  with  her  and  have  been  encouraged  to 
believe  that  what,  at  first,  was  a  most  modest  under 
taking,  might  be  turned  to  large  account  by  the  assist 
ance  of  your  commanding  position  in  the  community, 
a  position,  I  may  say,  due  not  to  your  wealth  and 
elevated  social  standing,  but  entirely  to  a  personality 
in  which  great  charm  and  aesthetic  judgment  vie  for 
supremacy."  Mrs.  Hardwick  paused,  and,  as  usual, 
devoted  the  breathing  spell  to  the  observation  of  the 
effect  of  her  words  upon  the  listener. 

With  Mrs.  Sedley,  she  had  struck  exactly  the  right 
note.  Her  wealth  and  social  position  were  an  old  story, 
but  her  recent  standing,  that  of  a  recognized  patron  of 
the  arts,  was  newer  and,  therefore,  not  so  well  estab 
lished  in  her  own  mind  as  the  certainty  of  her  wealth 
and  social  position.  Confirmation  of  it  from  others,  there 
fore,  was  sweet  music  in  her  ears. 

"What  is  your  project,  Mrs.  Hardwick?"  asked  Mrs. 
Sedley  with  an  appearance  of  great  interest. 

"The  world  war  and  the  great  upheaval  consequent 
thereto  are  making  history  at  unparalleled  speed.  Day 
after  day,  new  problems  arise,  new  movements  are 
perceived,  and  the  mind  of  the  ordinary  man,  nay,  even 
the  cultured  man  or  woman,  is  bewildered  in  the 
attempt  to  follow  the  progress  of  events.  But  a  few  days 
ago  we  were  watching  the  advance  of  the  Germans  into 
Italy  with  excitement  and  apprehension.  Last  week 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  239 

the  fall  of  the  Kerensky  government  claimed  our 
attention  and  set  us  to  wonder.  To-day  we  are  face  to 
face  with  a  labor  movement  in  our  own  country  of 
such  proportions  that  the  President  has  deemed  it 
necessary  to  take  a  hand.  All  of  this  vast  moving 
panorama  is  confusing  to  us  unless  it  is  co-ordinated 
and  correlated  by  someone  who  has  the  insight  to 
delve  into  the  mystery  and  the  ability  to  set  clearly 
before  us  the  results  of  the  inquiry. 

"I  have  given  this  matter  much  earnest  thought  and 
have  come  to  the  conclusion,  I  hope  I  am  not  overrating 
myself,  that  I  can  bring  to  many  people,  who  are 
without  either  the  opportunity  or  the  ability  to  do  it 
for  themselves,  an  understanding  of  these  matters 
which,  with  a  minimum  of  effort  and  expense  on  their 
part,  will  make  the  whole  concatenation  of  events 
clear  to  them."  Again  Mrs.  Hardwick  paused  and 
noted  that  she  had  Mrs.  Sedley's  complete  attention. 

"Please  go  on,  Mrs.  Hardwick,"  said  she,  "this  is 
most  interesting." 

"It  is  my  intention,"  resumed  that  lady,  "to  give  a 
series  of  sixteen  talks  on  current  topics,  at  weekly 
intervals,  on  Thursdays,  beginning  January  third.  In 
these  talks  I  shall  present  the  important  happenings 
of  the  previous  week,  with  an  interpretation  of  them 
which  will  make  them  clear  to  every  auditor.  It  is 
my  purpose " 

"Oh!  That  will  be  splendid,"  cried  Mrs.  Sedley, 
enthusiastically. 


240  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  was  sure  you  would  approve/'  said  Mrs.  Hardwick, 
"and  I  am  very  happy  that  I  was  not  mistaken,  for  I 
count  upon  your  help  to  assure  the  success  of  the 
series." 

"I'll  be  delighted  to  assist  you.  What  can  I  do?" 

"I  want  you  to  be  the  first  of  my  patronesses,  if 
you  will  be  so  kind." 

"Certainly.  Whom  else  will  you  have?" 

"I  should  like  Mrs.  Ingham,  Mrs.  Kennedy  Brown, 
Mrs.  Lorimer — "  and  Mrs.  Hardwick  went  on  to  name 
about  twenty-five  women,  all  of  them  prominent  in 
society,  not  one  of  whom,  however,  she  had  met. 

"A  splendid  list,  Mrs.  Hardwick,"  said  her  hostess. 
"Have  you  spoken  to  any  of  them?" 

"Not  yet.  In  fact,  I  felt  that  the  project  was  of  such 
importance  to  the  community  that  I  did  not  care  to 
go  on  with  it  until  I  had  secured  your  approval  and 
promise  of  patronage.  Now  that  you  have  so  kindly 
given  me  both  of  these,  I  am  going  to  count  upon  your 
well-known  public  spirit  for  co-operation  in  securing 
the  rest  of  the  patronesses." 

"But  how?"  queried  Mrs.  Sedley.  She  was  wondering 
just  what  Mrs.  Hardwick  would  demand  of  her  and 
became  somewhat  less  cordial.  Mrs.  Hardwick,  however, 
paid  no  attention  to  the  change  in  Mrs.  Sedley's 
demeanor  and  went  on  sweetly: 

"I  haven't  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  some  of  these 
ladies  personally.  They  do  not  know  who  I  am  and  for 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  241 

me  to  apply  to  them  directly  without  your  support 
and  approval  would  entail  much  delay  and  might 
defeat  the  great  object  which  I  have  in  view,  which  is 
to  reach  the  largest  possible  number  of  people."  Mrs. 
Hardwick  put  on  what  was  intended  to  be  a  most 
engaging  smile. 

"But  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  asked  Mrs. 
Sedley,  anxiously. 

"I  should  like  you  to  invite  these  ladies  to  meet  at 
your  house,  and,  so  to  speak,  organize  the  patronage 
of  my  talks.  I  would  be  here,  and  would  take  charge 
of  everything;  you  would  have  to  give  yourself  no 
concern  whatever.  Of  course,  it  would  be  most  appro 
priate  if  you  were  to  make  a  little  address  in  which  you 
might  state  your  enthusiastic  interest  in  the  project." 

Mrs.  Sedley  was  not  sure  she  liked  the  programme 
which  her  guest  had  in  view.  However,  she  saw  no 
great  trouble  in  it  for  herself  and  she  therefore  gave  her 
assent. 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  Hardwick,"  she  said,  "when  would 
you  suggest  that  we  hold  the  meeting?" 

"Let  me  see,  this  is  Wednesday.  Would  next  Wednes 
day  afternoon  suit  you?" 

"Very  well.  In  what  form  would  you  suggest  we 
make  the  invitation?" 

"I  have  thought  of  that.  Since  you  have  been  good 
enough  to  stand  as  sponsor  for  the  undertaking,  we 
must  take  no  chance  of  failure.  It  has  therefore  appeared 


242  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

to  me  that  the  best  way  in  which  to  assure  a  full  attend 
ance  at  this  meeting  will  be  for  you  to  give  me  a  letter 
of  introduction  to  each  of  these  ladies  in  a  form  which 
I  have  already  composed,  and  which  will  contain  an 
invitation  to  attend  the  meeting  and  become  one  of  the 
patronesses." 

Mrs.  Sedley  was  dubious  and  would  have  been  glad 
to  withdraw.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Hardwick  suspected  this, 
for  she  went  on  hastily. 

"It  will  be  a  matter  of  a  couple  hours'  work  for  your 
secretary.  I  shall  submit  the  form  of  the  letter  to  you 
for  your  approval,  of  which  I  am  quite  sure,  and  then, 
if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  have  her  set  to  work  on 
them  immediately,  I  can  get  them  from  her  this 
afternoon  and  begin  at  once,  presenting  them  hi  person 
to  the  ladies  to  whom  they  are  addressed." 

"Have  you  the  letter  already  written?"  asked  Mrs. 
Sedley. 

"Yes,  I  have  it  here.  I'll  show  it  to  you  directly. 
But  first,  I  must  speak  to  you  about  a  matter  concerning 
which  I  feel  a  most  natural  delicacy.  You  need  not  be 
told  that  there  will  be  considerable  expense  attached 
to  the  giving  of  these  talks  on  the  large  scale  which  we 
have  hi  mind.  I  hope  I  have  not  judged  incorrectly  in 
presuming  that  you  would  make,  may  I  say,  a  liberal 
subscription  for  tickets."  Mrs.  Hardwick  paused  and 
fixed  her  gaze  on  Mrs.  Sedley.  Instinctively,  she  knew 
that  until  the  latter  had  answered  she  must  be  silent 
and  she  was. 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  243 

Mrs.  Sedley  took  but  a  moment.  She  might  have 
taken  longer  were  it  not  that  silence  under  Mrs.  Hard- 
wick's  direct  gaze  was  most  uncomfortable. 

"Why,  certainly,  Mrs.  Hardwick,"  she  said,  rather 
nervously.  "What  do  you  expect  of  me?" 

"I  don't  suppose  It  will  seem  very  much  to  you," 
said  Mrs.  Hardwick  in  a  deprecatory  manner.  "There 
are  to  be  sixteen  talks,  and  at  one  dollar  each,  the 
price  for  all  would  be  sixteen  dollars.  I  have,  however, 
decided  to  ask  but  fifteen  for  the  course.  I  presumed 
that  you  would  be  willing  to  subscribe  for  six  course 
tickets."  Again  her  gaze  was  fixed  on  Mrs.  Sedley. 

Fortunately  for  Mrs.  Hardwick,  ninety  dollars  was 
not  much  for  Mrs.  Sedley  to  spend  for  anything,  and, 
while  that  lady  thought  it  rather  steep,  she  was  unable 
under  that  fixed  look  of  definite  expectation  to  do 
anything  but  acquiesce. 

"Oh!  That  will  be  quite  satisfactory,  Mrs.  Hard 
wick,"  she  said. 

"Thank  you  very  much.  I  knew  your  public  spirit 
and  generosity  would  not  fail,  and  to  prove  that  there 
is  no  flattery  in  this,  let  me  show  you  the  letter  I  have 
composed."  Mrs.  Hardwick  drew  a  letter  from  her 
pocket  with  great  care.  The  care  was  undertaken  to 
assure  her  bringing  forth  the  copy  which  she  had 
prepared  which  stated  that  Mrs.  Sedley  had  subscribed 
to  six  course  tickets,  and  to  avoid  showing  those  which 
stated  respectively  four  and  two. 


244  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

She  handed  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Sedley,  who  read: 

Dear  Mrs.  Blank: 

This  will  introduce  to  you  Mrs.  Henry 
Wallace  Hardwick,  with  whom  I  have 
been  acquainted  for  a  number  of  years. 
Mrs.  Hardwick  is  to  give  a  series  of  talks 
on  current  topics,  on  Thursday  afternoons 
beginning  January  third,  and  I  wish  to 
enlist  your  interest  in  behalf  of  theproject. 

From  what  I  know  of  Mrs.  Hardwick's 
ability  and  attainments,  she  is  singularly 
well  fitted  to  undertake  the  work.  Con 
sequently  I  have  consented  to  act  as  pa 
troness,  and  as  a  mark  of  my  interest  have 
subscribed  to  six  course  tickets. 

May  I  add  my  request  to  that  of  Mrs. 
Hardwick  to  the  effect  that  you  will  also 
become  a  patroness  and  in  that  capacity 
attend  a  meeting  at  my  house  on  next 
Wednesday  afternoon  at  four  o'clock? 

Mrs.  Hardwick  will  explain  the  matter 
to  you  in  full  detail. 

Mrs.  Sedley  read  the  letter  carefully.  "It  seems  very 
business-like,"  she  said  doubtfully. 

"I  tried  to  make  it  so.  It  appears  to  me  that  that  is 
the  correct  basis.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  the  letter 
is  satisfactory  to  you  and  that  you  will  have  your 
secretary  set  to  work  at  them  at  once.  I  shall  call  for 
them  as  soon  as  they  are  ready." 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  Hardwick,"  answered  Mrs.  Sedley. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  245 

tf 

"But  I  cannot  sign  them  until  late  this  afternoon.  I 
am  going  out  almost  immediately  and  will  not  return 
until  nearly  dinner  time."  Mrs.  Sedley  rose,  which  Mrs. 
Hardwick  judged  correctly  was  a  sign  of  dismissal,  and 
she  also  rose. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Sedley,"  she  said,  "I  cannot  suffi 
ciently  express  my  delight  in  your  whole-hearted 
co-operation.  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  my  appreciation 
by  making  this  course  of  talks,  to  which  you  have  been 
good  enough  to  lend  your  support,  a  great  success,  one 
that  will,  if  possible,  add  to  your  already  great  reputa 
tion  as  the  possessor  of  a  fine  public  spirit.  Good  morn 
ing.  I  shall  call  for  the  letters  at  seven  this  evening. 
Will  you  give  me  your  secretary's  name?" 

"Miss  Hatch,"  answered  Mrs.  Sedley.  "Good  morn 
ing  and  good  luck." 

"Thank  you  ever  so  much,  dear  Mrs.  Sedley.  Good 
morning."  And  Mrs.  Hardwick  went  down  the  street 
elated. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

DIRECTLY  after  lunch  on  that  same  day 
Mrs.  Hardwick  sought  her  friend  Mrs. 
Hutchinson.  She  called  her  on  the  telephone 
and  made  an  appointment  to  visit  her  immediately. 
Mrs.  Hutchinson  sent  her  car  for  her  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  the  two  ladies  were  hi  earnest  conclave. 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick,  "we  shall  have  at 
least  twenty  patronesses  selected  from  the  most 
exclusive  people  hi  the  city.  I  have  no  doubt  that  none 
of  them  will  feel  satisfied  to  do  less  in  the  way  of 
subscription  than  Mrs.  Sedley.  That  will  mean,  at 
ninety  dollars  each,  nearly  two  thousand  dollars.  We 
may  be  sure  of  the  success  of  the  undertaking,  certainly 
from  the  financial  aspect.  Now,  we  must  go  at  once 
and  engage  the  hall." 

The  prospect  seemed  almost  too  good  to  Mrs.  Hutch 
inson.  She  was  Inclined  to  be  cautious,  and  urged  delay. 
"There  may  be  disappointments,  you  know,"  she  said. 

"Impossible,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick,  and  much  more 
which  showed  such  complete  confidence,  such  utter 
determination  that  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was  literally 
carried  off  her  feet  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  was  taken 
into  town  by  Mrs.  Hardwick  hi  her  own  car. 

At  the  office  of  the  manager  of  Wilberforce  Hall, 
Mrs.  Hardwick  did  all  of  the  talking.  She  was  hi  her 

246 


JTHE    HAPPY   WOMAN  247 

element,  for  the  manager  was  an  unassuming  little  man, 
one  of  the  sort  who  might  always  be  counted  upon  for 
the  display  of  discretion  rather  than  valor. 

"Mr. ,  I  believe  I  have  forgotten  your  name," 

began  Mrs.  Hardwick  in  a  most  business-like  tone. 

"Spafford,"  contributed  the  manager. 

"Oh!  yes,  Mr.  Spafford.  Well,  Mr.  Spafford,  you 
told  me  yesterday  that  you  had  two  of  my  Thursday 
afternoons  engaged." 

"Yes,  madam."  He  consulted  a  memorandum  book. 
'The  second  in  January  and  the  third  in  February." 

"I  should  like  you  to  cancel  those  contracts,"  said 
Mrs.  Hardwick,  quite  calmly,  with  no  idea  that  she 
was  proposing  anything  very  extraordinary. 

"Impossible,"  said  the  manager,  aghast. 

"That  is  a  word  which  I  do  not  admit  into  my 
vocabulary.  It  is  not  impossible.  The  days  under 
consideration  have  not  yet  arrived,  and  therefore  it  is 
quite  possible  for  those  who  have  engaged  these  days 
to  make  a  change  in  their  plans." 

"But  my  dear  Madam — " 

"No  buts,  if  you  please.  Have  the  kindness  to  tell 
me  by  whom  these  days  were  engaged." 

"The  January  date  was  engaged  by  the  Steinmetz 
Musical  Academy,  and  the  other  by  Henry  Barberton, 
the  lecturer." 

"I  know  Mr.  Steinmetz  very  well.  You  will  please 
tell  him  I  should  like  to  have  him  change  his  day.  As 
for  Mr.  Barberton — " 


248  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"But,  madam,  we  never — we  have  never."  The  poor 
little  man  could  not  go  on;  such  a  proposal  had  never 
been  made  to  him  before.  Mrs.  Hardwick  did  not  give 
him  a  chance  to  collect  his  scattered  wits,  however, 
and  went  on  serenely: 

"On  second  thought  you  need  not  concern  yourself 
with  Mr.  Steinmetz,  I  shall  see  to  him,  but  I  look  to 
you  to  effect  the  change  in  Mr.  Barberton's  date.  That 
is  final.  Now,  if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  make  out 
the  papers  necessary  to  secure  the  first  sixteen  Thursday 
afternoons  in  the  New  Year,  I  shall  be  glad  to  sign." 

"But  I  cannot  rent  the  hall  to  you  on  dates  which 
have  already  been  taken." 

"Yes,  you  can.  You  may  possibly  not  be  able  to  give 
me  possession  of  the  hall  on  those  dates,  but  you  can 
rent  it  to  me,  and  I  insist  that  you  do  so." 

"Well,"  said  the  manager,  yielding  not  so  much  to 
her  arguments  as  to  his  fear  of  further  discussion  with 
her,  "if  I  may  insert  a  proviso  that  the  two  days  in 
question  are  to  be  subject  to  the  withdrawal  of  their 
present  holders,  I  see  no  difficulty." 

"You  might  have  saved  some  time  and  trouble," 
said  Mrs.  Hardwick  severely,  "if  you  had  done  so  in  the 
first  place.  As  I  said,  I  will  answer  for  Mr.  Steinmetz's 
withdrawal  and  even  Mr.  Barberton's,  if  you  should 
not  be  able  to  obtain  it." 

Mr.  Spafford  filled  out  a  form  of  lease  which  he 
handed  to  Mrs.  Hardwick. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  249 

"Where  are  the  dates  specified?"  she  asked. 

He  pointed  out  the  place  and  Mrs.  Hardwick  exam 
ined  it,  and,  having  satisfied  herself  on  this  one  point, 
asked  for  a  pen. 

"One  moment,  please,  Madam, "said  the  little  man, 
"I  must  ask  you — it  is  quite  customary  to  make  a 
deposit."  He  was  very  much  abashed. 

"That  is  perfectly  satisfactory,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick 
in  her  grandest  manner,  "how  much  do  you  wish?" 

"I  think  in  this  case  that  two  hundred  dollars  would 
be  sufficient.  You  might  then  pay  sixty  odd  dollars 
before  each  performance." 

"Performance!"  cried  Mrs.  Hardwick.  "I  am  not 
going  to  give  a  performance.  I  shall  deliver  a  series  of 
talks  on  current  topics.  I  object  to  the  word  'per 
formance'." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  manager  meekly.  "I 
used  the  word  unintentionally,  quite." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick  grandly.  "When  do 
you  wish  this  payment?" 

"Now,"  replied  the  manager.  "I  am  very  sorry,  but 
it  is  our  custom,  and  I  am  unable  to  change  it." 

"You  need  not  apologize,"  said  Mrs.  Hardwick. 
"Unfortunately,  I  have  not  my  check  book  with  me. 
I  believe  you  have  yours,  have  you  not?"  She  turned 
to  Mrs.  Hutchinson. 

That  lady  had  it,  but  she  did  not  wish  to  advance 
so  large  a  sum.  She  would  have  liked  to  deny  having 


250  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

it,  but  Mrs.  Hardwick's  air  was  so  positive  that  she 
felt  the  check-book's  presence  in  her  bag  must  be  known 
by  her  friend,  so,  inwardly  reluctant,  she  produced  it. 

"I  don't  know  whether  my  balance  is  as  large  as 
that,"  she  said  apologetically. 

"You  might  look,  if  you  please,"  said  Mrs.  Hard  wick. 
Her  tone  was  honey,  but  Mrs.  Hutchinson  felt  it  as  a 
command. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  check  was  written  and  the  lease 
signed  and  then  the  ladies  departed. 

At  seven  o'clock  Mrs.  Hardwick  called  at  the  Sedley 
house  and  received  her  letters  of  introduction  from 
Miss  Hatch.  She  regretted  her  inability  to  use  any  of 
them  until  the  next  day,  so  impatient  was  she  to  push 
forward  with  the  enterprise.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her 
life  that  she  had  ever  engaged  in  any  solicitation  of  this 
sort.  Always  before,  her  efforts  had  been  devoted  to 

obtaining  small  subscriptions  for  small  charities.  As 

» 

might  be  expected,  she  had  been  a  member  of  various 
literary  societies,  usually  ultimate  affairs  which  held 
their  meetings  at  the  several  members'  houses,  but  that 
was  all. 

But  now,  at  last,  she  felt  that  she  was  coming  into 
her  own,  that  this  was  her  true  vocation.  This  was  a 
serious  business  for  her  in  which  her  conscious  purpose 
was  confined  to  the  good  work  she  would  do  in  the  way 
of  educating  the  public.  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  never  in 
any  doubt  as  to  the  extraordinarily  high  quality  of  her 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  251 

intellectuality.  Her  readiness  of  speech  was  a  complete 
deception  even  to  herself.  Her  opinions,  on  whatever 
subject,  were  sound  because  they  were  positive.  Words 
came  to  her  as  insects  to  a  flame;  her  glibness  of  speech, 
the  result  of  infinite  practice  in  unending  garrulity, 
had  become  second  nature,  and  she  seized  upon  any 
aspect  of  whatever  subject  attracted  her  attention  and 
her  volubility  upon  that  one  aspect  made  it  appear  to 
unthinking  listeners  as  the  whole  of  the  subject.  And 
even  more  than  to  her  listeners  did  it  so  appear  to  her. 
Consequently,  she  almost  never  made  a  thorough  study 
of  anything.  She  went  only  deep  enough  to  find  material 
for  speech  and,  that  point  once  reached,  she  felt  that 
the  subject  was  completely  within  her  grasp  and  dilated 
upon  what  she  knew  accordingly. 

Hardwick  did  not  dine  at  home  on  that  evening.  He 
was  at  work  in  the  office  upon  the  catalogue.  Mrs. 
Hardwick  was  disappointed,  because  she  wanted  him 
to  hear  about  the  progress  she  had  made.  When  he 
came  home  it  was  very  late  and  he  was  too  tired  and 
sleepy  to  pay  much  attention  to  her. 

However,  when  she  asked  him  whether  he  could 
advance  two  hundred  dollars  which  she  had  borrowed 
of  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  he  told  her  flatly  that  he  could  not 
do  so  because  he  did  not  have  it.  Mrs.  Hardwick  did 
not  argue  the  matter  with  him  and  dropped  the  subject 
completely,  much  to  his  relief.  He  wanted  to  sleep. 

Promptly  the  next  day  Mrs.  Hardwick  set  about  the 


252  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

delivery  of  her  letters.  By  dint  of  great  perseverance, 
she  succeeded  in  obtaining  as  patronesses  five  of  the 
six  women  she  saw  on  that  day,  every  one  of  whom 
subscribed  to  at  least  four  tickets,  and  three  of  them 
took  six.  Mrs.  Hardwick  did  not  rest  content  with 
mere  promises  to  subscribe  but  asked  for  and  obtained 
payment  in  each  case.  Thus,  armed  with  three  hundred 
and  ninety  dollars,  she  was  more  jubilant  than  ever, 
and,  as  she  paid  over  to  Mrs.  Hutchinson  the  two 
hundred  dollars  she  had  borrowed  the  day  before,  she 
drew  a  vivid  picture,  in  many,  many  words,  of  the 
furore  that  the  talks  would  cause. 

"Really,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "it  will  be  wonderful. 
My  only  regret  is  that  I  never  thought  of  it  before. 
I  know  that  this  idea  is  not  new,  but  really  it  has 
never  been  done  well.  If  you  will  pardon  what  seems 
to  be  vanity,  I  shall  tell  you  that  I  shall  surpass  the 
expectations  of  everyone.  I  have  given  the  matter 
constant  thought  and  am  convinced  that  my  grasp  of 
the  problem  is  as  nearly  complete  as  anything  human 
could  be.  Mrs.  Ingham,  you  have  heard  of  her,  of 
course,  was  wonderfully  impressed.  And  Mrs.  Cart- 
wright,  a  most  charming  woman,  you  know  of  them,  the 
Cartwrights  are  so  much  in  the  public  eye,  was  really 
enthusiastic."  And  so  on. 

By  Saturday  afternoon,  as  the  result  of  almost 
incredible  labor  and  perseverance,  Mrs.  Hardwick 
had  secured  eighteen  acceptances,  in  each  case  accom- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  253 

panied  by  a  subscription.  Altogether  she  had  received 
nearly  fourteen  hundred  dollars.  She  deposited  this 
money,  except,  of  course,  the  two  hundred  dollars  she 
had  paid  to  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  in  her  private  account, 
and  on  Sunday  paid  every  one  of  her  household  bills. 
Altogether  this  took  less  than  four  hundred  dollars. 

She  had  not  mentioned  the  matter  again  to  her 
husband.  With  his  refusal  to  advance  the  two  hundred 
dollars  necessary  to  repay  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  Mrs. 
Hardwick  had  suddenly  remembered  that  she  had  told 
him  that  she  would  come  to  him  neither  for  money  nor 
advice.  For  once,  therefore,  she  was  reticent  and  did 
not  take  him  further  into  her  confidence.  Hardwick 
was  really  not  much  interested.  He  figured  that  the 
project  was  foredoomed  to  failure  and,  when  it  did 
occur  to  him,  presumed  that  it  was  dead. 

He  did  not  even  observe  the  payment  of  her  bills 
on  Sunday.  He  was  busy  for  much  of  the  day  with  the 
preparation  of  the  advertising  copy  for  McCabe.  When 
he  began  work  upon  it,  he  regretted  that  he  had  ever 
undertaken  it.  He  felt  guilty,  ashamed.  He  told  himself 
that  he  had  in  no  way  been  influenced  hi  McCabe's 
favor  with  regard  to  placing  the  contract  for  printing 
the  catalogue.  McCabe  had  earned  that  work  by  his 
low  price,  and,  by  giving  the  order  to  him  the  company 
had  saved  a  thousand  dollars.  This  thought  and  many 
more  of  a  similar  kind  finally  gave  his  conscience 
partial  ease  and  interest  in  the  work  did  the  rest. 


254  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

Mrs.  Hardwick  set  to  work  again  promptly  on 
Monday  morning.  There  were  still  several  of  the 
proposed  patronesses  to  see  and  she  saw  them,  and,  in 
most  cases,  secured  their  acceptances  and  subscriptions. 

On  Monday  afternoon  and  Tuesday  she  and  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  attended  to  ordering  the  necessary  printing 
and  also  visited  one  of  the  newspaper  offices.  Mrs. 
Hardwick  took  it  for  granted  that  an  announcement  of 
her  plans  would  gladly  be  printed  as  news  by  the 
editor  and  was  much  disappointed  when  she  was  referred 
to  the  advertising  department.  She  indignantly  refused 
to  advertise,  and  told  the  editor  that  he  quite  mis 
understood  her  purpose.  This  was  a  public  matter, 
one  of  interest  to  everybody,  and  that  it  was  most 
important  that  they  print  news  of  it. 

"But  you  charge  admission,"  said  the  editor. 

"No  tickets  will  be  sold,"  answered  Mrs.  Hardwick, 
in  her  grandest  manner.  "I  do  not  wish  you  to  under 
stand  that  admission  is  free;  that  would  not  be  correct. 
Admission  will  be  limited  strictly  to  subscribers,  and, 
as  I  have  engaged  Wilberforce  Hall,  there  will  be 
accommodations  for  only  one  thousand  people.  At  the 
meeting  of  patronesses,  to-morrow  afternoon,  at  Mrs. 
L.  Percival  Sedley's  house,  we  shall — " 

"Mrs.  L.  Percival  Sedley,"  interrupted  the  editor. 
"Has  she  anything  to  do  with  it?" 

"Mrs.  Sedley  heads  the  list  of  patronesses.  There  are 
also  Mrs.  Ingham,  Mrs.  Cartwright,"  and  Mrs.  Hard 
wick  gave  the  complete  list. 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  255 

"Did  you  say  there  would  be  a  meeting  at  Mrs. 
Sedley's  house  to-morrow  afternoon?" 

"Yes,  and  at  the  meeting  we  shall — " 

"Mrs.  Hardwick,"  again  interrupted  the  editor, 
"will  you  give  us  an  exclusive  account  of  that  meeting?" 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  she,  seeing  that  the  tables 
were  turned,  "but  I  will  agree  to  give  you  an  authorita 
tive  interview.  You  may  use  my  name.  You  may  have 
a  reporter  at  my  house  at  half-past  six.". 

The  editor  did  not  seem  to  be  much  excited  by  the 
permission  to  use  Mrs.  Hardwick's  name,  but  said: 

"Thank  you  very  much." 

Mrs.  Hardwick's  efforts  with  the  other  papers  were 
equally  fruitful  and  she  came  home  that  evening  feeling 
very  well  content  with  the  result  of  her  work. 

The  meeting  at  Mrs.  Sedley's  house  the  next  day, 
however,  gave  her  the  greatest  joy  she  had  ever  known. 
In  the  first  place,  she  was  in  the  company  of  the  richest 
and  socially  most  exclusive  women  in  the  city,  and, 
what  was  most  sweet  to  her,  was  treated  by  them  with 
great  respect.  There  were  half  a  dozen  women  there 
whose  mental  capacity  far  exceeded  hers,  but  not  one 
who  was  a  fair  match  for  her  in  fluent  talk.  She  managed 
the  meeting  from  beginning  to  end  and  was  surprised 
to  find  that  these  women  of  wealth  and  fashion,  whom 
she  had  vaguely  imagined  as  creatures  superior  to 
their  sisters,  were  quite  as  easy  to  order  about,  quite 
as  ready  to  follow  the  definite  initiative  of  another,  as 
any  of  their  sex  she  had  ever  met. 


256  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Mrs.  Hardwick  arranged  everything.  Each  patroness 
was  to  have  a  certain  number  of  subscriptions  to  dispose 
of.  All  subscriptions  were  to  be  made  through  patron 
esses;  no  tickets  were  to  be  sold  to  the  general  public. 
The  audience  was  to  be  selected  with  great  care.  Each 
patroness  was  to  be  furnished  with  a  form  letter  which 
she  was  to  send  to  a  chosen  list  announcing  to  the 
recipient  that  he  or  she  was  granted  permission  to 
subscribe  to  the  course,  the  offer  to  be  dated  and  open 
for  two  days  only.  After  that  it  was  to  be  withdrawn. 
Everybody  was  delighted  with  the  unique  plan  and  all 
of  them  left  the  meeting  enthusiastic,  Mrs.  Hardwick's 
closing  speech  still  ringing  hi  their  ears. 

"And  now,  ladies,  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  the  interest 
you  have  taken  hi  this  work.  It  proves  to  me  that  my 
conviction  of  its  usefulness  to  the  public  was  well 
founded.  It  will  be  an  example  to  others,  to  follow  where 
we  have  led.  It  will  be  a  stimulus  to  many  thousands 
to  devote  their  efforts  to  acquiring  a  correct  view  of 
contemporary  events.  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  be 
the  means  to  bring  about  a  country-wide  interest,  not 
only  in  world  politics,  but  in  American  national  and 
local  politics  as  well,  and  thus  will  be  prepared  the  solid 
ground  work  for  fitness  to  discharge  the  duties  entailed 
upon  our  sex  by  the  imminent  grant  of  suffrage. 

"Ladies  I  thank  you!" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

HARD  WICK  came  home  that  evening  suffer 
ing  from  a  severe  depression  of  spirits.  He 
had  been  called  into  Pemberton's  office 
during  the  afternoon  and  a  categorical  statement  of 
the  condition  of  the  work  on  the  catalogue  had  been 
demanded.  When  the  matter  was  reduced  to  the  actual 
accomplishment,  it  was  evident  that  Hardwick  was 
far  behind  his  schedule,  even  allowing  for  his  loss  of 
time  owing  to  Alice's  death.  Practically  every  portion 
of  the  work  was  under  way,  but  now,  at  the  end  of 
November,  nearly  all  of  the  preparatory  work  should 
have  been  completed,  and  not  quite  half  of  it  was  done. 

"I  am  very  much  disappointed,  Hardwick,"  said 
Pemberton  coldly.  "You  have  fallen  far  short  of  what 
you  promised.  I  see  that  I  cannot  leave  this  matter 
entirely  in  your  hands,  and  will  have  to  ask  that  you 
make  a  daily  report  to  me  hereafter.  I  want  you  to 
have  a  schedule  prepared  and  I  shall  see  that  it  is 
followed  exactly. 

"I  see  you  have  placed  this  order  with  the  McCabe 
concern,"  he  continued.  "What  led  you  to  do  that?" 

"McCabe's  price  was  a  thousand  dollars  less  than 
any  of  the  others,"  answered  Hardwick.  He  was  very 
uncomfortable. 

"I  wouldn't  have  placed  the  business  with  him  if  his 

257 


258  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

price  had  been  five  thousand  dollars  less.  You  ought  to 
know  him.  The  man's  crooked  and  is  not  to  be  depended 
on  in  any  way.  His  work  is  not  first  class  and  his 
methods  are  rotten.  It's  poor  business  to  save  a  thou 
sand  dollars  if  by  doing  so  you  run  the  chance  of  spoiling 
a  fifteen  thousand  dollar  job.  You  ought  to  know  all 
about  him.  You're  no  new  comer  in  this  business." 

"I  felt  that  I  knew  enough  about  the  printing  busi 
ness  to  make  McCabe  give  us  what  we  want,"  answered 
Hardwick.  "I've  made  him  agree  to  submit  every  form 
before  he  starts  to  run  and  I've  put  a  penalty  of  fifty 
dollars  a  day  on  him  for  delay  in  delivery." 

"That's  downright  silly,"  said  Pemberton  sternly. 
"That  sort  of  agreement  won't  hold  water,  and  McCabe 
won't  be  slow  to  take  advantage  of  it.  As  to  your 
running  his  business  for  him,  and  that's  what  you 
propose  to  do  when  you  show  your  distrust  of  him  by 
exacting  the  right  to  pass  on  his  work  in  process,  that's 
entirely  out  of  your  province.  I  made  my  views  on  the 
buying  of  printing  clear  to  you  at  the  beginning  and 
this  is  exactly  what  I  told  you  not  to  do." 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  began  Hardwick,  and  then  was 
silent.'  ^  ** ,,*.  , 

"So  am  I,"  answered  Pemberton,  "but  that  does  no 
good  now.  I  should  like  to  see  McCabe.  Have  him  here 
to-morrow  morning  at  ten,  and  get  that  schedule  ready 
for  me."  There  was  a  finality  hi  his  tone  which  indicated 
to  Hardwick  that  the  interview  was  at  an  end.  He  got 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  259 

up  from  his  chair  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room, 
when  Pemberton  said: 

"Send  Miss  Bernstein  to  me." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Hardwick  and  left. 

He  told  Ruth  that  Mr.  Pemberton  wished  to  see  her 
and  then  sat  down  at  his  desk.  He  was  completely  dis 
couraged.  It  seemed  that  he  could  not  make  a  success 
of  anything.  Some  evil  fate  constantly  pursued  him  and 
set  all  of  his  plans  at  naught. 

But  he  did  not  have  long  to  bewail  his  portion  undis 
turbed.  As  soon  as  Ruth  left  the  office,  Miss  Henderson 
came  over  to  him  and  sat  down  at  his  desk.  She  looked 
worried,  he  noted  an  unusual  pallor  in  her  face. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"I've  pulled  an  awful  bone-head  stunt,"  she  began 
nervously.  "I  don't  know  what  you'll  think  of  me." 

"Well?"  he  asked,  disturbed. 

"You  know  that  stuff  you  gave  me  to  copy  for  you 
that  you  told  me  you  wanted  kept  dark." 

"Yes,  what  about  it?  You  gave  it  to  me  a  little  while 
ago;  it  was  all  right." 

"I  know,  but  there  was  one  page  that  had  some 
mistakes  in  it  and  I  re-wrote  it;  I  thought  I  had  thrown 
it  in  the  waste  basket."  She  paused. 

"Well?"  he  asked  anxiously.  "Go  on." 

"I  don't  know  how  I  ever  did  it,  but  I  got  it  mixed 
with  some  stuff  I  was  copying  for  Miss  Bernstein." 

Hardwick  had  a  sudden  sinking  sensation  as  Miss 
Henderson  continued: 


260  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Just  a  little  while  ago,  when  you  were  in  with  the 
boss,  she  called  me  and  asked  what  it  was.  Well,  you 
could  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather.  I  was 
so  fussed  that  I  couldn't  say  a  word.  I  just  took  the 
paper  and  walked  away.  Are  you  awful  sore  at  me?" 

"What  did  you  do  with  the  paper?"  asked  Hardwick. 
He  was  making  a  great  effort  to  master  the  fear  that 
gripped  him.  He  wondered  whether  his  agitation  showed 
in  his  demeanor. 

"I  tore  it  up,"  answered  Miss  Henderson  contritely. 
"I  guess  you  think  I'm  some  boob." 

"Oh!  It's  of  no  consequence,"  said  Hardwick  after  a 
moment.  "Don't  bother  about  it.  You  didn't  do  it 
intentionally.  It  really  doesn't  matter,  there  wasn't 
any  occasion  to  make  a  great  secret  of  it."  He  had 
suddenly  remembered  that  there  was  nothing  in  the 
copy  to  indicate  that  it  was  for  McCabe  and  that  it 
would  not  be  difficult  to  explain  in  the  unlikely  event 
that  the  question  should  be  put  to  him. 

"Oh!  I'm  awful  glad,"  said  Miss  Henderson,  and  left 
him,  visibly  relieved. 

But  she  had  no  sooner  left  him  than  he  was  again 
troubled.  What  a  silly  ass  he  was,  after  all,  to  have  had 
Miss  Henderson  make  the  copy  for  him.  Why  hadn't 
he  taken  it  to  some  stenographer  outside?  And  then  he 
remembered  he  had  not  done  so  after  having  thought 
of  it  because  he  was  afraid  that  he  might  accidentally 
run  into  someone  who  would  think  it  quite  suspicious 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  261 

for  him  to  go  to  some  stenographer  outside  of  the  office. 
Not  that  he  feared  that  anyone  would  question  him;  it 
was  suspicion  that  he  could  not  meet,  the  whispering 
about  him  that  he  would  not  hear. 

And  then  he  wished  again  that  he  had  never  under 
taken  the  work  at  all.  How  had  he  ever  been  such  a 
fool  as  to  let  himself  drift  into  this  mess?  He  saw  the 
whole  transaction  now  in  its  true  light.  He  had  allowed 
himself  to  be  played  upon  by  McCabe  as  though  he 
were  the  merest  beginner,  he,  Hardwick,  who  had 
always  rather  looked  down  upon  McCabe  as  distinctly 
his  inferior.  And  then  he  began  to  excuse  himself.  It 
was  his  pressing  want  of  money  which  had  blinded  him, 
the  extravagance  of  his  wife,  and,  in  a  sullen  fit  of  anger 
at  her,  he  found  some  relief  from  his  self-recrimination. 

Mechanically,  he  began  to  prepare  the  schedule  which 
Pemberton  had  demanded,  and,  as  he  got  into  the 
work,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  the  management 
of  the  catalogue  was  being  taken  out  of  his  hands,  and 
that  he  had  lost  Pemberton's  confidence.  He  gave  him 
self  up  to  sheer  misery  as  he  worked  mechanically  at 
the  schedule.  Would  nothing  ever  go  right  with  him? 
Why  was  he  always  to  fail,  why  was  he  always  the 
sport  of  the  fates?  In  his  desperation  he  tried  to  put 
these  thoughts  out  of  his  mind,  but  he  could  not  do  so, 
and,  although  he  applied  himself  to  his  work,  they 
recurred  and  recurred. 

Meanwhile  Ruth  had  entered  Pemberton's  office. 


262  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"What's  the  matter  with  Hardwick  on  this  cata 
logue?"  he  asked  brusquely,  as  she  entered. 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she 
answered. 

"Why  has  he  gotten  behind  with  his  copy?" 

"He's  had  all  sorts  of  trouble.  Every  shop  hi  town 
is  short  handed.  The  photographers  have  disappointed 
him  again  and  again." 

"Why  does  he  let  them  disappoint  him?  He  ought  to 
keep  after  them,  he's  surely  had  enough  experience 
with  those  fellows.  They're  all  alike.  Sit  down,  won't 
you?"  Ruth  had  been  standing  all  of  this  time.  She 
seated  herself. 

"He  has  been  keeping  after  them  all  of  this  and  last 
week,"  she  said.  "The  work's  going  pretty  well  now. 
He  ought  to  have  everything  in  the  printer's  hands  by 
the  tenth  or  twelfth  of  December.  He  works  at  it  nearly 
every  night." 

"That  reminds  me.  How  did  he  happen  to  give  this 
job  to  McCabe?  Do  you  know  anything  about  it?" 

"Yes;  McCabe's  bid  was  a  thousand  dollars  lower 
than  any  other." 

"But  he's  no  good.  He  never  should  have  had  a 
chance  to  bid." 

Ruth  was  silent.  Pemberton  looked  for  a  reply,  but, 
receiving  none,  asked: 

"Don't  you  think  so?" 

"I  wouldn't  give  him  any  work.  I  don't  think  he's 
trustworthy." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  263 

"Did  Hardwick  consult  you?" 

"He  discussed  the  matter  with  me,  but  he  didn't 
ask  my  advice." 

"Did  you  encourage  him  to  give  the  work  to 
McCabe?" 

"No." 

"Did  you  advise  him  not  to?" 

"Not  exactly,  but  I  told  him  of  Mr.  McNair's 
experience." 

Pemberton  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"I  wonder  whether  there's  any  graft  in  this,"  he  said 
thoughtfully. 

"Oh!  I'm  sure  there's  not,"  said  Ruth  hastily.  But 
as  she  uttered  the  words,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  her 
that  the  piece  of  advertising  copy  which  Miss  Henderson 
had  inadvertently  given  her  might  have  been  work  done 
for  McCabe  by  Hardwick.  There  was  no  real  reason 
for  it,  but  the  stenographer's  obvious  confusion  and 
her  taking  the  paper  away  without  making  any  answer 
made  it  clear  that  she  had  been  instructed  to  keep  the 
matter  secret.  No  one  in  the  office  could  have  given 
her  the  work  to  do  except  Hardwick,  and  his  only 
reason  for  enjoining  secrecy  would  be  that  it  was  work 
which  he  had  a  good  reason  for  concealing. 

Ruth  was  now  convinced  that  Hardwick  was  working 
for  McCabe.  She  did  not  see  that  the  evidence  was 
utterly  incomplete,  because  the  coincidence  of  Pember- 
ton's  question  as  to  Hardwick's  honesty  and  the 


264  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

surreptitious  writing  of  the  copy  was  sufficient  to  put 
this  idea  into  her  head,  not  as  a  suspicion,  but  as  a 
settled  conviction.  She  was  greatly  troubled,  for  it 
was  her  first  experience  of  the  kind  and  she  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  She  would  have  been  much  relieved 
had  she  been  able  to  confide  in  Pemberton,  but  his 
position  made  him  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  whom 
she  might  tell  it.  She  must  get  away  and  think  it 
over  alone.  She  would  watch  and  wait. 

These  thoughts  took  the  merest  instant  to  form  in 
her  mind.  Her  demeanor  gave  no  indication  of  her 
trouble  and  Pemberton  had  no  inkling  that  her  quick 
repudiation  of  his  suspicion  had  been  followed  by  more 
than  suspicion  on  her  own  part.  He  was  silent  for  a 
moment  after  she  spoke  and  then  said: 

"Well,  I've  told  Hardwick  that  I'm  going  to  take  a 
hand  in  the  business.  He's  to  prepare  a  schedule  of 
the  work  for  me,  and  to  report  daily.  I've  told  him  to 
bring  McCabe  here  to-morrow  morning  and  I'll  put 
the  fear  of  God  into  him."  He  smiled  grimly. 

Ruth  again  marvelled  at  him.  What  a  wonderful  man 
he  was,  unlike  any  other  she  had  ever  met.  She  felt,  now 
that  she  knew  that  he  would  keep  in  close  touch  with 
the  work  on  the  catalogue,  that  the  result  would  be 
all  that  could  be  wished  for.  There  were  no  impossi 
bilities  for  Pemberton;  even  facts,  or  what  passed  for 
facts  with  others,  yielded  before  his  will. 

"I  want  you  to  keep  your  eyes  open  on  this  job,  too," 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  265 

he  continued.  "I  want  you  to  report  to  me  anything 
you  think  I  ought  to  know.  I  don't  believe  there  will 
be  any  need,  but  I  want  to  be  sure  there'll  be  no  slip 
ups." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Ruth.  She  felt  that  the  inter 
view  was  over  and  got  up  to  go. 

"One  minute,"  said  Pemberton.  "Have  you  anything 
on  for  this  evening?" 

"Why,  no,"  she  answered. 

"Would  you  like  me  to  run  out  to  see  you?" 

"I'd  be  very  glad." 

"All  right.  I'll  be  out  about  eight  o'clock."  He  felt 
happy  in  the  prospect  and  forgot  his  anger.  What 
difference  did  anything  make,  he  thought,  if  he  could 
have  her. 

When  Ruth  mentioned  to  her  mother  that  Pemberton 
intended  to  spend  the  evening  with  her,  Mrs.  Bernstein 
showed  that  she  was  displeased. 

"What's  the  matter,  Mother?"  Ruth  asked. 

"Nothing,"  answered  that  lady. 

"Yes,  there  is.  I  can  see  it." 

"No,  there  isn't." 

"You're  displeased  because  Fred's  coming,  aren't 
you?" 

"Well,  I  don't  like  him,  and  I  don't  want  you  to 
marry  him." 

"Why  not?" 

"I've  told  you  often  I  don't  believe  in  marriages 


266  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

between  Jews  and  Christians,  and,  anyway,  I  don't  like 
him.  He's  not  polite." 

"Fred  isn't  much  of  a  Christian.  He  never  goes  to 
church.  As  for  politeness,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean, 
he  has  fine  manners." 

Mrs.  Bernstein  did  not  dislike  Pemberton  for  any 
reason  that  she  was  able  to  put  into  words.  She  did  not 
like  him  and  he  did  not  like  her  because,  basically, 
they  were  mutually  antagonistic.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
she  had  no  particular  prejudice  against  Christians,  she 
had  no  valid  reasons  against  what  she  called  "mixed 
marriages."  She  merely  used  these  excuses  to  justify 
her  dislike. 

"He  never  pays  any  attention  to  what  I  say  to  him," 
she  said.  "He  just  sits  there  and  I  can  see  he's  thinking 
of  something  else." 

"Well,  I  haven't  promised  to  marry  him  yet.  I  don't 
mind  saying  that  I  often  think  of  it,  but  I  just  can't 
make  up  my  mind.  You  know  I've  got  a  long  time  to 
think  it  over." 

"I  wish  you'd  give  up  your  position  there.  We  don't 
need  the  money  now,  since  the  Consolidated  is  paying 
dividends,"  said  Mrs.  Bernstein.  This  was  a  recent 
occurrence,  the  first  payment  of  dividends,  accompanied 
by  a  material  rise  in  the  market  value  of  a  mining  stock 
in  which  the  late  Mr.  Bernstein  had  made  a  considerable 
investment. 

"Oh!  I'd  be  unhappy  if  I  couldn't  go  to  the  office," 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  267 

cried  Ruth.  "By  the  way,  did  you  get  a  reference  for 
that  maid  that  promised  to  come?" 

"Yes,  she's  a  pretty  good  girl.  I  wonder  whether  she 
really  will  come.  They're  awfully  scarce  these  days, 
and  independent!  You'd  think  they  were  doing  you  a 
favor." 

"Well,  they  are,  aren't  they?"  asked  Ruth  laughing. 

As  she  was  clearing  the  table  after  dinner,  her 
mother  said: 

"If  you  marry  Fred  Pemberton,  you  know  I  couldn't 
live  with  you  and  we'd  be  separated." 

"No,  we  wouldn't,  cried  Ruth.  "Nobody  will  ever 
separate  us." 

"He  will,"  said  her  mother,  "if  you  marry  him.  He 
doesn't  like  me." 

"Oh!  that's  foolish.  He  always  speaks  beautifully 
about  you.  He's  always  asking  me  how  you  are." 

Several  times,  during  Pemberton's  visit,  Ruth  found 
herself  on  the  point  of  speaking  to  him  about  her 
discovery,  but  checked  herself  each  time.  She  was 
unusually  happy  in  his  company  this  evening,  as  he 
was  in  what  was  a  gay  humor  for  him;  in  fact,  at  one 
time,  Ruth  felt  that  he  was  actually  about  to  laugh. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

MRS.  HARD  WICK  was  not  generally  an  early 
riser,  although  she  would  have  been  quite 
indignant  had  anyone  intimated  a  suspicion 
of  the  truth.  And  her  indignation  would  have  been 
inspired  by  the  sincere  belief  that  such  an  imputation 
was  entirely  outside  of  the  facts.  She  did  not  count  the 
times  she  was  late,  even  though  they  greatly  out 
numbered  the  others;  the  extraordinary  feeling  of 
virtue  which  pervaded  her  when  she  actually  arose 
early  was  sufficient  to  make  her  look  upon  her  frequent 
lapses  as  quite  exceptional. 

However,  on  the  morning  following  the  meeting  of 
patronesses  at  Mrs.  L.  Percival  Sedley's  house  there 
was  no  doubt  of  her  early  rising.  She  was  anxious  to 
see  the  morning  paper  and,  in  her  impatience,  she  came 
downstairs  nearly  half  an  hour  before  its  arrival.  It 
seemed  much  more  to  her,  but  when  the  newspaper  was 
actually  in  her  hands  and  she  had  read  the  account  of 
the  meeting,  and  had  tasted  the  exquisite  joy  of  seeing 
her  name  mentioned  with  those  of  the  socially  dis 
tinguished  coterie  who  had  lent  the  lustre  of  their 
names  to  her  enterprise,  she  forgot  all  about  the 
vexation  she  had  experienced  in  waiting. 

She  had  held  to  her  reticence  concerning  this  subject 
in  her  husband's  presence,  but  now,  with  this  palpable 

268 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  269 

proof  of  her  success  in  the  public  prints,  she  was  ready, 
nay,  anxious  to  compel  his  admiration.  He  had  not  yet 
come  downstairs,  so  she  had  ample  opportunity  to  read 
the  notice  several  times  and  then  to  leave  the  paper, 
folded  so  that,  as  she  thought,  his  eye  would  instantly 
be  attracted  to  it. 

But  this  morning  he  was  late,  in  a  bad  humor  and  in 
a  great  hurry.  He  did  not  even  look  at  the  newspaper, 
but  tossed  it  to  one  side  and  bolted  his  breakfast  in  a 
few  minutes.  Directly  he  was  through  with  it  he  left 
the  house. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  disappointed  but  inclined  to  be 
philosophical.  He  would  see  the  notice  as  he  read  the 
newspaper  on  his  way  to  the  office.  Perhaps  it  was  all 
the  better  so.  Undoubtedly,  it  was  in  the  other  papers 
too,  and  people  would  be  sure  to  speak  to  him  of  it 
during  the  day  and  he  would  come  home  immensely 
impressed. 

She  was  going  out  this  morning  to  see  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son  to  discuss  some  details  of  the  project  with  her,  and, 
after  she  had  given  some  necessary  instructions  to  her 
maid,  she  went  upstairs  to  dress.  She  had  scarcely 
begun,  however,  when  there  was  a  ring  on  the  telephone. 
It  was  from  a  slight  acquaintance  of  hers  who,  after 
the  essential  preliminaries,  asked  if  she  might  subscribe 
to  the  course  of  talks.  Mrs.  Hardwick  promised  to 
secure  her  a  ticket  if  possible  and  was  about  to  resume 
dressing  when  the  telephone  rang  again.  It  was  another 


270  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

request  of  the  same  nature,  and  after  that  she  had  no 
chance  to  finish  dressing.  All  morning  long  she  was 
answering  the  same  kind  of  request.  In  her  naivete 
she  took  it  as  a  personal  testimonial  and  her  spirits 
soared.  Ah!  success  was  sweet.  Why  had  she  permitted 
herself  to  remain  so  long  in  obscurity  when  the  very 
first  mention  of  her  appearance  in  public  brought  such 
sweeping  evidence  of  her  popularity? 

Hardwick's  irritation  was  due  to  a  restless  night 
following  his  trouble  of  the  day  before.  He  hurried  to 
the  office  and  immediately  got  into  touch  with  the 
several  concerns  who  were  working  on  the  preparation 
of  the  catalogue.  He  impressed  on  every  one  of  them 
the  necessity  for  pushing  the  work,  made  his  notations 
on  the  schedule  he  had  prepared  for  Pemberton  and 
sent  it  into  the  business  manager's  office. 

At  a  few  minutes  before  ten  o'clock  McCabe  appeared. 

"What's  up?"  he  inquired,  cheerfully. 

"Mr.  Pemberton  wants  to  see  you  about  the  cata 
logue." 

"Nothing  wrong?"  asked  McCabe,  apparently  still 
cheerful,  but  inwardly  somewhat  uneasy. 

"No,"  answered  Hardwick  in  a  manner  which  invali 
dated  the  direct  negative  of  his  answer.  "He  didn't  say 
why  he  wanted  to  see  you,  but  I  suppose  he  wants  to 
make  sure  there'll  be  no  delay." 

"Oh!  if  that's  all,  I  can  satisfy  him,"  said  McCabe 
with  relief.  "Let's  go  to  him,"  he  continued,  anxious 
to  have  the  interview  over. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  271 

Hardwick  called  the  operator  and  made  known  to 
Pemberton  that  McCabe  was  present.  In  a  few  minutes 
word  came  that  Mr.  Pemberton  would  see  him. 

Both  men  went  into  the  business  manager's  office. 

"You've  met  Mr.  McCabe,  I  believe,"  said  Hardwick 
as  he  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

"Yes,"  answered  Pemberton  without  looking  up. 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  McCabe,"  he  continued,  and  then 
looking  at  Hardwick,  said  to  him,  "Will  you  bring  me 
the  contract  that  we  have  made  for  the  printing  of  this 
job?" 

Hardwick  left  at  once.  As  he  walked  to  his  own  desk, 
he  wondered  what  Pemberton  was  going  to  say  to 
McCabe  during  his  absence.  Could  it  be  that  Miss 
Bernstein  might  have  had  her  suspicion  aroused  by  the 
scrap  of  copy  which  Miss  Henderson  had  inadvertently 
given  her  and  had  communicated  it  to  Pemberton?  He 
experienced  a  sudden  depression  as  this  occurred  to  him 
and  fear  gripped  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was 
incapable  of  consecutive  thought.  He  was  ready  to  give 
up  his  position,  go  away,  do  anything  rather  than  be 
subject  to  this  horrible  fear. 

As  he  came  to  his  desk,  he  saw  Ruth  working  at  hers. 
Her  expression  showed  her  intense  interest  in  her  work 
and  made  it  perfectly  obvious  that  she  was  not  aware 
of  his  proximity,  but,  in  the  disordered  state  of  his 
mind,  he  felt  that  she  was  consciously  avoiding  his 
glance,  and  this  new  idea  confirmed  the  suspicion  that 
she  had  told  Pemberton  about  the  piece  of  copy. 


272  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

He  took  the  contract  from  a  drawer  of  his  desk,  and 
was  about  to  return  to  Pemberton's  office,  when  Ruth 
called  to  him.  She  asked  some  question  of  no  great 
importance,  but  her  manner  completely  reassured  him 
and  his  recent  fear  vanished.  He  spoke  with  her  in 
answer  to  her  question  for  more  than  a  minute  and 
thus  nearly  three  minutes  passed  while  he  was  out  of 
Pemberton's  office. 

Pemberton,  as  usual,  wasted  no  time  in  preliminaries. 
As  soon  as  Hardwick  had  gone,  he  began: 

"See  here,  McCabe,"  he  said,  "you've  got  an  order 
from  this  company  that  you'd  never  have  had  if  I'd 
been  consulted." 

McCabe  raised  his  hand  in  deprecation,  but  Pember 
ton  paid  no  attention  to  his  gesture  and  went  on. 

"The  kind  of  work  we  expect  on  this  book  is  better 
than  you  usually  do.  I  don't  know  whether  you  can  do 
as  good  work  as  we  want  or  not,  but  I  know  you 
usually  don't  do  it.  Your  price  was  one  thousand  dollars 
less  than  the  lowest  of  four  other  bidders,  and  I  want 
to  give  you  notice  right  now  that  if  you  intended  to 
save  any  large  part  of  that  difference  by  giving  us  an 
inferior  quality  of  work,  I  won't  stand  for  it."  There 
was  something  in  Pemberton's  manner  that  was  too 
much  for  McCabe.  All  of  his  usual  assurance  left  him 
and  he  was  mentally  cringing  before  his  superior 
adversary. 

"Why,  Mr.  Pemberton,"  he  began. 


THE    HAPPY    WOMAN  273 

"Wait,"  said  the  other,  "you'll  get  your  chance  to 
talk  when  you've  heard  what  I  have  to  say.  If  you 
listen  to  me,  you'll  know  just  what  to  answer  instead  of 
floundering  around.  You  see,  I  know  you  and  I  know 
what  your  business  methods  are.  I  haven't  forgotten 
the  last  transaction  we  had  with  you  and  I  don't  propose 
to  have  any  repetition  of  it.  Just  so  that  you  know  where 
you're  at  in  this  thing,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I 
can  cancel  this  order  and  all  you'll  be  able  to  recover 
is  the  actual  damage  you  have  suffered.  Actual  damage, 
remember,  not  potential  damage.  You'll  get  a  few  hun 
dred  dollars  and  that's  all.  I  tell  you  this  to  induce  you 
to  be  reasonable." 

The  expression  on  McCabe's  face  at  this  moment 
indicated  plainly  that  he  was  prepared  to  be  reasonable 
or  anything  else  that  Pemberton  might  demand. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  asked. 

Hardwick  came  in  before  Pemberton  had  a  chance 
to  answer,  laid  the  contract  on  his  desk,  and  then  sat 
down. 

"I'll  tell  you  hi  a  minute,"  said  Pemberton  to 
McCabe,  and  then  picked  up  the  contract  and  set 
himself  to  reading  it.  As  he  read,  the  others  looked 
about  the  room  and  at  each  other.  They  felt  like  crim 
inals  before  the  bar  of  justice,  each,  however,  in  his 
own  way.  Presently,  Pemberton  finished  his  reading 
and  turning  to  Hardwick  said: 

"What  does  this  mean;  the  specification  'Snowdrift 
Enamel  or  paper  of  equal  quality'?" 


274  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Mr.  McCabe  has  submitted  a  sample  of  paper 
which  I  consider  fully  equal  in  every  respect  to  Snow 
drift  and  I  have  approved  it." 

Pemberton  did  not  answer  him,  but  turned  to 
McCabe  and  asked: 

"Was  it  the  substitution  of  this  paper  for  Snowdrift 
which  made  it  possible  for  you  to  underbid  the  other 
fellows?" 

"Yes,"  answered  McCabe. 

"What  is  the  paper?" 

"I  can't  tell  you  that.  It's  a  confidential  matter. 
I  bought  it  way  under  price,  and  I'm  giving  you  the 
advantage  of  the  saving." 

"If  you  won't  tell  me  what  it  is,  I'll  refuse  to  accept 
it,"  said  Pemberton  quietly  but  with  a  positiveness  that 
left  no  doubt  that  he  would  do  exactly  as  he  said. 

"But  Mr.  Hard  wick  has  already  approved  it,"  said 
McCabe. 

"Very  well.  I  repudiate  Mr.  Hardwick's  action.  The 
paper  has  not  yet  been  made  unmarketable.  Use  it  for 
something  else,  or  sell  it.  We'll  take  Snowdrift  Enamel." 

McCabe  was  beaten.  He  knew  that  Pemberton  was 
not  bluffing. 

"It  is  Snowdrift  Enamel,"  he  said  nervously. 

"Seconds?"  asked  Pemberton. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  McCabe,  "it's  a  lot  which  was 
turned  back  on  them  for  some  reason  or  other,  but  it 
isn't  seconds." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  275 

"But  you  bought  it  for  seconds,  didn't  you?  I  mean 
at  the  price  of  seconds." 

"Yes,"  answered  McCabe.  He  was  literally  afraid 
to  lie. 

"Very  well.  Send  us  a  few  quires  of  the  paper  and 
we'll  have  it  tested.  Let  me  see,  you  saved  over  twelve 
hundred  dollars  on  the  paper,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes,"  answered  McCabe  again. 

"That  explains  the  difference  in  price.  At  that  rate 
your  price  is  considerably  higher  for  the  labor  on  the 
job  than  those  of  your  competitors.  That  establishes 
the  fact  that  you're  going  to  get  a  fair  price  for  the  work 
you  do."  He  looked  at  McCabe  searchingly,  and 
awaited  his  assent. 

And  again  McCabe  said:  "Yes." 

"Now  then,  listen  to  me.  There  are  two  important 
questions  to  answer.  First,  can  you,  are  you  able  to  do 
a  first-class  job  in  every  respect?" 

"I  can  do  as  well  as  anybody  in  town.  I  have  the 
best—" 

"Never  mind  what  you  have,"  interrupted  Pember- 
ton.  "You've  said  you  can  make  a  first-class  job  and 
that's  enough.  Now,  second,  if  we  put  all  of  the  copy 
and  cuts  in  your  hands  by  the  fifteenth  of  December, 
can  you  finish  the  work  in  a  strictly  first-class  manner 
and  deliver  all  of  the  books  by  January  fifteenth?" 

"Yes,"  said  McCabe,  "if  there's  no  delay  in  passing 
proofs." 


276  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Very  well.  Now  listen  to  me  again.  The  ordinary 
experience  with  printers  who  are  either  slow  in  delivery 
or  who  turn  out  work  of  an  unsatisfactory  quality  is 
that  you've  got  to  take  whatever  they  give  you  when 
ever  they're  ready  to  give  it  to  you  simply  because  there 
is  almost  never  time  to  replace  the  work  elsewhere. 
This  is  not  our  case.  I  very  much  prefer  to  get  out  a 
catalogue  because  we  have  gotten  one  out  every  year. 
But  this  year  I  have  the  best  excuse  in  the  world  for 
not  getting  one  out.  In  the  first  place,  I  don't  know 
whether  we'll  have  any  goods  to  sell,  the  government 
will  commandeer  every  ounce  of  steel  that's  made,  and 
it's  extremely  doubtful  whether  we'll  be  able  to  get  any 
supplies.  And  in  the  second,  we  have  been  urged  to 
economize  in  our  printing  in  order  to  save  paper.  I 
tell  you  these  things  because  I'm  quite  willing  to  send 
out  a  mere  price  list  with  a  circular  telling  the  trade 
that,  in  view  of  conditions,  we  are  not  justified  in  issuing 
a  catalogue.  Take  this  from  me:  If  your  work  is  behind 
the  time  specified  or  is  not  fully  up  to  the  standard  of 
quality  which  we  demand,  we'll  simply  refuse  to  accept 
it  and  you'll  either  pocket  your  loss  of  nearly  nine 
thousand  dollars  immediately  or  throw  good  money 
after  bad  to  the  lawyers  who'll  fool  around  with  it 
for  a  couple  of  years  to  no  purpose.  Do  you  get  me?" 
He  looked  sternly  at  McCabe,  who  was  visibly  uncom 
fortable. 

"There's  no  need  of  your  telling  me  all  this,  Mr. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  277 

Pemberton,"  he  said,  "I'm  going  to  give  you  a  square 
deal.  You'll  get  a  first-class  job  in  every  respect  and 
you'll  get  it  on  time." 

"That's  up  to  you.  If  you  make  good,  all  right.  We'll 
pay  your  bill  for  the  amount  specified  in  your  bid, 
but  not  one  cent  for  extras  unless  you  can  show  a 
written  order  stating  the  amount  to  be  paid.  If  you  fall 
down,  you  won't  get  a  cent."  Pemberton  stood  up, 
indicating  that  the  interview  was  at  an  end. 
The  others  rose  also.  As  he  got  up  McCabe  said: 
"You'd  have  all  your  plates  on  your  hands." 
"Sure,"  answered  Pemberton.  "We  can  use  them  next 
year  just  as  well.  Good  morning,  McCabe.  Hardwick, 
I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

When  the  door  closed  on  McCabe,  Pemberton  said: 
"I  thought  you  knew  something  about  the  printing 
business."  There  was  a  distinct  sneer  in  his  tone. 
Hardwick,  who  had  sat,  literally  in  wonder  at  the 
masterful  manner  in  which  Pemberton  had  handled 
McCabe,  was  himself  so  cowed  by  his  superior  that  he 
did  not  even  resent  it. 
"I  thought  I  did,"  he  answered. 
"How  do  you  explain  the  contract  you  made  with 
that  skin?" 

"I  wanted  to  save  the  difference  of  a  thousand 
dollars  and  I  counted  upon  watching  the  progress  of  the 
job  so  as  to  make  sure  we'd  get  the  work  done  right 
and  in  good  time." 


278  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"I  told  you  what  I  thought  of  that  yesterday,  so 
there's  no  use  repeating  it."  He  paused  for  a  moment. 
"I  don't  want  you  to  place  any  more  orders  for  printing 
without  first  submitting  the  matter  to  me.  Now,  let's 
go  over  your  schedule." 

When  Hardwick  left  Pemberton's  office,  he  was  as 
miserable  as  he  had  ever  been  in  his  life.  He  felt  utterly 
crushed,  so  completely  hemmed  in  by  his  necessities 
that  he  could  not  assert  the  remnant  of  independence 
that  was  left  in  him.  No,  he  must  bear  this  for  his 
family's  sake.  If  he  gave  up  this  position,  he  would  not 
know  where  to  go,  he  would  surely  be  unable  to  obtain 
a  salary  such  as  he  had  here,  and  even  that  was  insuffi 
cient  for  his  needs.  Every  cent  of  his  December  salary 
was  already  disposed  of  and  was  inadequate  to  redeem 
certain  promises  he  had  made  to  some  of  his  creditors. 

He  came  home  in  the  evening  wearied  beyond 
measure,  sick  at  heart,  and  when  he  opened  the  door 
the  thought  of  Alice  came  to  him  and  added  to  his  sad 
ness.  Life  seemed  scarcely  worth  the  burdens  it  imposed. 
But,  on  the  other  side  of  the  door  was  Marian,  and,  in 
her  embrace,  much  of  his  trouble  left  him,  that  is  to  say, 
he  no  longer  felt  active  distress  although  he  was  still 
sore  in  spirit. 

"Did  you  see  about  mother  in  the  papers?"  she  cried. 

"In  the  papers?"  he  queried.  "What  about?" 

"Why,  all  about  her  current  topics  talks.  It's  in  all 
the  papers,  and  the  telephone's  been  ringing  all  day 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  279 

and  mother's  just  gone  over  to  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and 
said  she'll  be  back  soon,  but  she  just  had  to  go,  she  had 
to  talk  to  her  about  hiring  a  somebody  to  attend  to 
everything." 

Hardwick  was  surprised.  Was  it  possible,  after  all, 
that  his  wife  was  actually  going  to  be  able  to  make  a 
success  of  this  hare-brained  scheme?  It  couldn't  be 
true.  This  was  just  another  of  her  fruitless  efforts, 
with  the  result  this  time  that  their  burden  of  debt 
would  be  still  further  increased.  Well,  a  little  more  or 
a  little  less,  what  was  the  difference.  Things  could  not 
be  much  worse.  He  turned  to  Marian. 

"Well,  Mamie,  what  have  you  been  doing  all  day?" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

HARDWICK  heard  the  account  of  his  wife's 
triumph  from  her  own  lips  without  being 
much  moved  thereby.  He  had  no  doubt  that 
she  was  exaggerating  both  her  part  in  the  project  and 
what  she  called  the  great  public  interest  in  it  and  her. 
Strange  to  say,  she  did  not  tell  him,  even  yet,  of  the 
financial  aspect  of  the  affair;  she  wanted  to  wait  until 
she  knew  exactly  the  amount  she  would  receive.  When 
he  asked  her  about  it  shortly  before  Christmas,  she 
told  him  that  the  secretary,  whom  they  had  found  it 
necessary  to  engage,  would  not  likely  be  able  to  make 
a  report  for  several  days,  and  that  she  could  not  tell 
him  accurately. 

Really,  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  not  as  much  interested 
in  the  money  she  was  to  receive  as  might  be  thought. 
She  was  neither  accurate  nor  ready  with  figures  and 
had  only  the  most  indistinct  idea  of  the  extent  of  the 
possible  profit  to  come  to  her  from  her  course  of  talks. 
She  knew,  of  course,  that  she  was  sure  to  make  a  very 
considerable  sum  of  money  through  them,  and,  although 
this  gave  her  great  pleasure,  it  paled  almost  into 
insignificance  beside  the  complete  satisfaction  she  felt 
in  what  she  considered  the  public  acclamation  of  her 
extraordinary  mentality.  She  told  Hardwick  that  she 

280 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  281 

did  not  wish  him  to  spend  much  for  a  Christmas 
present  for  her  in  view  of  his  being  so  short  of  funds. 

The  day  before  Christmas,  the  secretary  turned  over 
to  Mrs.  Hardwick  over  five  thousand  dollars  and  a 
statement  to  the  effect  that,  after  deducting  all  possible 
expenses,  the  course  of  talks  would  bring  hi  a  net  return 
of  about  ten  thousand  dollars.  Mrs.  Hardwick  was 
amazed.  A  return  of  such  magnitude  had  never  entered 
into  her  calculations.  She  was  well  aware  that  there  was 
an  enormous  interest  in  the  course,  and  attributed  that 
largely  to  the  public  desire  to  learn  from  her  lips  the  true 
meaning  of  the  news  of  the  day.  She  recognized  the 
drawing  power  of  her  list  of  patronesses,  but  the 
absurdly  high  price  and  the  sense  of  social  distinction 
that  each  subscriber  experienced  when  she  was  allotted 
her  tickets  did  not  seem  to  her  the  real  reasons  for  the 
extraordinary  success  of  the  venture. 

However,  Mrs.  Hardwick  deposited  her  money  with 
the  greatest  satisfaction  in  the  world  and,  with  difficulty, 
restrained  her  desire  to  tell  her  husband  of  it  on  Christ 
mas  eve  when  he  came  home  for  dinner.  He  was  in  a 
gay  humor  this  evening,  responding  to  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion.  He  had  brought  home  an  armful  of  packages, 
buying  a  number  of  things  at  the  last  minute,  candy, 
books,  holly  wreaths.  For  the  moment,  his  worries  were 
gone  and  only  the  thought  of  Alice  tempered  his  joy  in 
the  holiday. 

At  dinner,  however,  Mrs.  Hardwick  talked  much  of 


282  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

Alice,  with  the  result  that  all  of  them  were  much 
depressed,  and  when,  later  in  the  evening,  after  Marian 
had  gone  to  bed,  they  trimmed  the  Christmas  tree 
together,  their  usual  delight  in  it  was  painfully  absent. 
Even  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  not  talkative  for  once  and 
altogether  it  was  rather  an  unhappy  Christmas  eve. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  had  determined  on  a  great  surprise 
for  Christmas  morning.  When  they  had  finished  break 
fast,  which  proved  to  be  rather  a  lively  meal  owing  to 
Marian's  joy  in  her  presents,  she  asked  Hardwick  to 
come  to  the  sewing  room,  where  she  had  a  little  present 
for  him.  Wondering,  he  followed  her,  and,  when  she 
took  a  check  from  her  writing  table  and  handed  it  to 
him,  his  amazement  at  its  amount  was  so  great  that 
he  was  incapable  of  speech.  It  was  a  check  for  one 
thousand  dollars.  Mrs.  Hardwick  beamed  upon  him  as 
he  stood  there  silent,  his  great  surprise  manifest  in  his 
startled  expression. 

"Florrie,"  he  said  at  length,  "what  does  this  mean?" 

"It  means,  my  dear  Henry,  that  our  financial  worries 
are  over.  I  have  already  more  than  enough  money  to 
discharge  every  one  of  our  obligations,  and  when  all 
of  the  receipts  are  hi  my  hands,  I  shall  have  much, 
much  more.  I  have  received  a  statement  from  my 
secretary  which  informs  me  that  the  profits  which  will 
finally  accrue  from  my  little  series  of  talks  will  aggregate 
at  least  ten  thousand  dollars." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  magnificence  of  the 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  283 

air  with  which  she  delivered  herself  of  this  statement. 
Self-satisfaction,  pride,  almost  self -worship  marked  its 
every  syllable.  She  looked  to  him  for  joy,  congratula 
tions,  praise. 

But  to  Hardwick  it  brought  only  the  sense  of  unutter 
able  defeat.  Instead  of  giving  him  joy,  it  stamped  upon 
him  the  feeling  of  incompetence.  As  he  struggled  to 
master  these  emotions,  so  that  they  should  not  be 
evident  in  his  demeanor,  Mrs.  Hardwick  improved  the 
opportunity  to  dilate  upon  her  achievement. 

"I  have  but  one  regret  in  connection  with  the  whole 
affair,"  she  said,  "and  that  is  that  I  have  not  sooner 
turned  to  account  what  I  may  without  undue  vanity 
refer  to  as  an  unusual  talent  for  leadership.  It  was  made 
very  plain  to  me,  at  the  meeting  of  patronesses  at  Mrs. 
L.  Percival  Sedley's  house,  that  I  possess  ability  in 
this  direction  much  out  of  the  ordinary.  As  you  know, 
all  of  the  ladies  present  were  members  of  our  most 
exclusive  families,  whose  names  are  known  not  only 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  this  city,  but 
which,  I  may  say,  have  a  significance  wherever  great 
wealth  and  social  position  are  recognized.  And  these 
women,  accustomed  to  command,  literally  sat  at  my 
feet  and  listened  to  my  words  with  rapt  attention, 
anxious  to  follow  my  slighest  suggestion. 

"It  is  but  a  forerunner  of  what  will  happen  in  the 
larger  gatherings  which  will  attend  my  talks.  Would 
you  believe  it,  I  have  literally  been  besieged  ever  since 


284  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

the  news  became  public  property.  The  telephone  called 
me  constantly  for  several  days.  Women  with  whom 
my  acquaintance  was  so  slight  that  I  recalled  their 
names  with  difficulty  craved  permission  to  subscribe 
to  the  course.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  always  been 
far  too  modest.  I  have,  so  to  speak,  'hid  my  light  under 
a  bushel'. 

"But  that  day  is  past.  Henceforth  I  shall  turn  my 
undoubted  talents  to  account.  This  little  series  of  talks 
is  but  the  beginning  of  a  career  which  promises  not  only 
an  adequate  return  financially,  but,  what  is  more,  a 
public  recognition  which,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  admit, 
will  bring  me  the  greatest  delight.  I  know  that  it  is 
quite  usual  to  affect  to  scorn  a  tribute  of  this  kind,  but 
I  look  down  upon  such  affectation,  it  is  beneath  me." 

Hardwick  listened  in  misery.  This  then  was  his 
reward.  A  life  of  hard,  unremitting  labor  which  had 
brought  him  nothing  but  debt  and  worry.  He  had  put 
forth  the  best  that  was  in  him  and  now,  in  middle  age, 
when  his  faculties  were  no  longer  in  their  prime,  he 
had  to  take  second  place  to  his  wife;  he  had  to  turn  to 
her  to  relieve  him  from  the  ignominy  of  constant 
indebtedness,  he  must  relinquish  his  position  as  the  sole 
provider.  And  he  wondered  at  the  freak  of  fortune 
which,  at  one  stroke,  had  put  into  her  hands  an  amount 
equal  to  two  years  of  his  salary. 

During  the  interval  between  Christmas  and  the  first 
of  the  Thursdays  upon  which  Mrs.  Hardwick  was  to 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  285 

begin  her  series  of  talks,  her  conversation,  if  so  one-sided 
an  affair  may  be  thus  called,  was  solely  upon  this  one 
topic.  And,  with  the  constant  repetition,  Hardwick 
gradually  lost  the  sense  of  sharp  distress  which  the 
first  announcement  of  his  wife's  great  success  had 
brought  to  him.  However,  it  was  still  a  sore  spot  in  his 
consciousness  and,  when  it  came  into  his  mind,  he 
made  a  great  effort  to  think  of  other  things.  But  with 
the  arrival  of  the  first  of  Mrs.  Hardwick's  Thursdays, 
even  this  soreness  had  gone;  he  had  become  thoroughly 
accustomed  to  the  new  condition. 

Before  he  left  the  house  that  morning,  Hardwick 
had  been  strictly  enjoined  by  his  wife  to  be  present  at 
Wilberforce  Hall  in  the  afternoon.  She  wanted  him  to 
witness  her  triumph.  He  had  demurred  at  the  beginning, 
claiming  that  he  did  not  care  to  absent  himself  from  the 
office  during  business  hours,  but  Mrs.  Hardwick  had 
scoffed  at  his  protestations  and  had  overridden  them 
completely.  In  the  end,  he  had  given  in  and  had  prom 
ised  to  be  present  promptly  at  three,  the  hour  which 
had  been  set. 

There  was  no  trace  of  nervousness  visible  in  Mrs. 
Hardwick.  She  was  as  sure  of  herself  as  though  this  was 
to  have  been  her  thousandth  rather  than  her  first 
appearance  in  a  large  hall  before  an  audience  which  had 
been  keyed  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  expectancy.  She  had 
given  several  days  to  preparation,  using  the  daily 
papers  and  two  weeklies,  which  gave  her  the  information 


286  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

which  she  required.  As  she  had  a  really  prodigious 
memory  and  almost  perfect  self-possession,  it  was 
necessary  for  her  to  make  only  the  merest  notes.  With 
these  in  her  hand,  she  felt  herself  fully  equipped  for 
the  work  and  was  actually  ready  to  ask  for  questions 
upon  any  pertinent  subject  which  might  occur  to  any 
of  her  auditors. 

"Now,  Henry,  my  dear,"  she  said,  as  she  accompanied 
him  to  the  door,  "I  count  upon  you  to  attend  promptly. 
I  am  particularly  anxious  to  have  your  view  of  the 
manner  in  which  I  comport  myself.  Not  that  I  have  any 
doubt  of  my  ability  to  handle  the  situation,  but  I  should 
like  to  have  your  impression." 

"All  right,"  he  answered,  and,  kissing  her,  went 
down  the  street. 

But  the  thought  of  his  ill  fortune  persisted.  Something 
was  wrong  with  him,  he  felt;  nothing  went  right.  The 
last  part  of  the  catalogue,  that  which  had  been  arranged 
after  the  responsibility  for  the  prompt  finishing  of  the 
work  had  been  taken  over  by  Pemberton,  did  not  have 
the  quality  of  lively  interest  shown  in  the  earlier  pages. 
He  had  struggled  with  them,  he  had  endeavored  to 
maintain  his  interest,  but  could  not.  He  could  not  help 
feeling  that  it  was  no  longer  his  catalogue;  his  sense  of 
personal  achievement,  the  ambition  to  make  a  great 
personal  success  were  gone. 

However,  the  work  was  being  pushed  by  McCabe  and 
there  was  now  no  doubt  that,  save  for  some  extraor- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  287 

dinary  misfortune,  the  book  would  be  finished  in 
time.  Hardwick  had  seen  the  first  forms  and  knew  that 
the  quality  of  the  printing  was  all  that  could  be  expected. 

There  was  another  thing  in  his  mind  which  gave  him 
almost  constant  inquietude,  and  that  was  the  thought 
of  the  sheet  of  McCabe's  copy  which  Miss  Henderson 
had  inadvertently  put  into  Ruth's  hand.  What  did  Miss 
Bernstein  know?  And  what  did  she  suspect?  He  thought 
over  countless  expedients  to  test  her  but  rejected  all 
of  them  as  incriminating.  She  never  came  to  him 
without  causing  him  the  fear  that  she  was  about  to 
speak  of  the  matter.  He  almost  wished  she  would  do 
so,  he  felt  it  would  be  a  blessed  relief. 

It  was  almost  constantly  present  in  Ruth's  mind 
also.  There  was  no  one  with  whom  she  felt  free  to 
discuss  the  matter,  and,  consequently,  it  haunted  her 
thought,  a  spectre  that  would  not  down.  She  felt  that 
she  was  assuming  a  responsibility  by  silence  which  was 
beyond  her.  Having  no  doubt  whatever  of  Hardwick's 
guilt,  she  felt  that  he  was  unworthy  to  continue  to 
hold  his  position,  and  yet  she  could  not  bring  herself 
to  talk  of  the  matter  to  Pemberton.  She  knew  well 
what  that  would  mean;  a  searching  examination  into 
the  details  of  the  affair  and  then,  the  truth  once  estab 
lished,  the  ruthless  dismissal  of  Hardwick  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  would  be  practically  impossible  for  him 
to  hold  any  position  of  trust  and  responsibility  in  the 
community. 


288  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

Finally,  she  decided  that  she  would  go  to  Hardwick 
himself  at  some  favorable  opportunity  and  ask  him 
point  blank  whether  her  conviction  of  his  guilt  was 
Justified.  If  he  admitted  it,  she  would  advise  him  to 
resign  his  position  and  would  promise  her  silence  on 
the  matter  forever.  If  he  denied  it,  well — she  would  see. 
But  she  felt  that  she  must  speak  of  it  to  someone  and 
this  seemed  the  only  possible  course. 

It  appeared,  however,  that  the  favorable  opportunity 
which  she  had  specified  to  herself  never  would  come. 
Day  after  day  she  came  to  the  office  determined  to 
make  the  opportunity  if  necessary,  but  on  each  day 
went  home  without  having  spoken. 

The  opportunity  she  sought  came  to  her  on  this 
third  of  January  immediately  after  her  return  from  her 
lunch  at  quarter  of  two. 

Hardwick  was  sitting  at  his  desk  when  Ruth  came  in 
from  lunch.  The  office  was  unusually  quiet,  most  of  the 
clerks  were  engaged  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
Hardwick's  desk,  certainly  out  of  earshot.  This  was 
Ruth's  opportunity  and  she  embraced  it. 

She  was  extremely  nervous  as  she  came  over  to  him. 
The  beating  of  her  heart  was  painfully  perceptible  and 
she  wondered  whether  the  choking  sensation  that  was 
upon  her  would  permit  speech.  Hardwick  was  not 
aware  of  her  presence  until  she  actually  stood  by  his 
chair,  but,  at  the  first  sound  of  her  voice,  he  was  seized 
with  terror.  He  knew  that  she  was  going  to  speak  at 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  289 

last,  and  he  strove  vainly  to  master  his  inward  agitation 
as  she  asked  him: 

"May  I  speak  to  you  for  a  few  minutes,  Mr.  Hard- 
wick?"  she  began.  Never  had  she  been  so  excited.  She 
was  struck  by  fright  at  her  own  temerity.  She  saw  that 
her  action  might  lay  her  open  to  a  most  painful  rebuff 
and  wished  she  had  not  begun.  But  the  thought  of 
withdrawing  did  not  occur  to  her. 

"Certainly,"  said  Hardwick  in  a  tone  which  he  tried 
to  make  unconcerned.  Whether  he  was  successful  or 
not  made  no  difference,  Ruth  was  far  too  agitated  to 
observe  it. 

"There's  a  matter  which  has  been  worrying  me  for 
weeks  and  I  feel  I  must  speak  to  you  about  it."  As  she 
spoke,  she  grew  somewhat  calmer,  but  Hardwick's 
trouble  continued  to  increase.  He  said  nothing,  so  she 
went  on: 

"You  may  think  it's  none  of  my  business,  but  please 
hear  me  out.  I  must  talk  to  someone  about  the  matter 
and  I'm  sure  you'll  agree  that  it  will  be  far  better  for 
me  to  discuss  it  with  you  than  with  anyone  else."  She 
paused  and  looked  at  him. 

"Go  on,"  he  said  huskily.  Oh!  Would  she  never  get 
down  to  the  real  thing?  What  was  the  use  of  all  of  these 
preliminaries? 

"Some  weeks  ago  Miss  Henderson  put  in  my  hands  a 
piece  of  advertising  copy  which  I  am  sure  she  wrote  for 
you.  It  was  purely  unintentional  on  her  part,  a  mistake, 


290  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

for  she  was  much  confused  when  I  asked  her  what  it 
was,  and  took  it  away  without  giving  me  any  explana 
tion."  She  paused  again,  at  a  loss  just  how  to  proceed. 
She  was  silent  only  for  a  second,  but  in  that  moment 
she  saw  the  intense  suffering  which  she  was  causing 
Hardwick.  He  looked  at  her  fixedly,  his  face  white,  his 
lips  bloodless  under  the  pressure  he  exerted  in  his 
struggle  to  maintain  his  composure. 

"Mr.  Hardwick,"  Ruth  resumed  at  length,  "you 
wrote  that  advertising  copy  for  Mr.  McCabe  and  that 
was  why  you  were  willing  to  let  him  bid,  and  allowed 
him  to  make  a  substitution  in  the  paper  item,  and 
wouldn't  let  the  other  printers  revise  their  bids.  You 
wrote  that  stuff  for  him  to  justify  you  in  taking  money 
from  him,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Hardwick.  He  was  so  utterly  crushed 
that  he  did  not  even  wonder  how  she  had  arrived  at 
her  conclusion.  But  one  thought  was  in  his  mind  now. 
In  some  way  he  must  justify  himself  in  her  eyes.  She 
had  practically  told  him  that  she  had  spoken  to  no  one 
about  the  matter  and,  in  some  obscure  way,  Hardwick 
knew  that  she  spoke  the  truth. 

"Yes,"  said  Hardwick  again  after  a  momentary  pause. 
"It's  all  true,  but  it  isn't  quite  as  bad  as  it  sounds  when 
you  say  it."  He  forced  himself  to  hold  to  a  dignified 
calmness,  but  in  him  his  heart  seemed  to  be  beating 
furiously.  Oh,  if  only  he  could  disappear,  if  he  could  but 
be  blotted  out.  Flight  was  the  one  thing  which  seemed 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  291 

possible,  but,  nevertheless,  he  was  chained  there  by 
something  stronger  than  this  instinct,  compelled  to 
make  an  attempt  to  justify  himself  although  he  knew 
in  advance  that  it  was  useless. 

"Will  you  listen  to  my  explanation?"  he  asked.  Ruth 
looked  at  him  in  pity.  Never  had  she  seen  greater 
misery,  and  suddenly  she  was  engulfed  by  a  great  wave 
of  sympathy  for  him.  Oh!  she  thought,  how  hard  it  is 
to  know  what  to  do.  In  her  thought  it  had  seemed  so 
easy  to  decide  between  right  and  wrong;  it  was  quite 
a  simple  matter  to  tell  him  to  resign  his  position,  but 
now  it  was  altogether  different.  She  hastened  to  reply, 
making  her  tone  as  reassuring  as  she  knew  how: 

"Why,  certainly,  Mr.  Hardwick." 

Hardwick  felt  the  sympathy  she  had  aimed  to 
express  and  quickly  responded  to  it.  He  was  in  no  doubt 
now  as  to  what  to  say.  He  would  tell  her  the  whole 
transaction,  omitting  nothing,  and  then  offer  to  resign. 
He  was  just  about  to  begin  when  there  was  a  ring  of  the 
telephone  on  Ruth's  desk.  She  went  over  and  picked  up 
the  receiver. 

"Miss  Bernstein  speaking,"  he  heard  her  say.  And 
then,  after  a  short  pause,  "Tell  him  I'll  come  imme 
diately." 

She  turned  to  Hardwick,  "Mr.  Pemberton  wishes  to 
see  me  at  once.  Will  you  wait  here  until  I  return?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  and  she  left. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  soon  as  Ruth  entered  Pemberton's  office  he 
picked  up  his  telephone  and  told  the  operator 
he  was  not  to  be  disturbed.  This  took  but  a 
second  and  the  receiver  was  already  back  on  its  hook 
when  Ruth  had  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"Sit  down,  please,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  have  a  serious 
talk  with  you." 

Ruth,  who  was  still  much  agitated,  took  a  chair  and 
looked  at  him  expectantly.  She  did  not  trust  her  voice. 
Anyone  who  knew  her  would  have  seen  instantly  that 
she  was  not  as  usual,  but  Pemberton  was  too  intent 
upon  his  own  concerns  for  the  moment  to  perceive  the 
alteration  in  her  demeanor.  His  glance  was  directed  at 
her,  but  he  did  not  see  her,  that  is,  he  saw  she  was 
there,  but  no  more. 

At  length  he  began  to  speak  very  slowly. 

"Ruth,"  he  said,  "I  know  I  shouldn't  discuss  the 
matter  I  have  on  my  mind  here  now,  but  I  really  have 
no  choice.  I  have  to  give  a  final  decision  this  afternoon 
on  a  matter  which  depends  on  you.  So  I  ask  your 
pardon  in  advance,  and  hope  you  will  hear  me  out." 
His  manner  was  extraordinarily  gentle.  Never  had  she 
seen  him  so  subdued,  so  bent  upon  holding  himself  in 
hand.  As  she  made  no  answer,  he  went  on. 

"I  have  been  asked  to  become  one  of  the  managers 
292 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  293 

of  the  Red  Cross  in  France.  Over  there,  there  are 
enormous  distributions  of  supplies  to  be  made.  It  is  an 
immense  undertaking  and  they  are  short  of  the  most 
important  factor,  executives  of  the  right  sort.  Ordinary 
men  are  plentiful,  they  can  get  all  they  want  of  them. 
But  the  kind  of  men  they  want  are  scarce.  In  the  first 
place  they  don't  grow  on  every  bush,  and  even  when 
they  find  one  that  could  fill  the  bill,  he  isn't  often 
available."  He  paused  and  looked  at  her,  and  this  time, 
trying  to  read  the  impression  his  words  were  making 
upon  her,  noted  her  agitation  for  the  first  time  and 
promptly  set  it  down  to  the  effect  of  his  communication. 

"For  some  time,"  he  continued,  "the  Red  Cross 
people  have  been  after  me.  I've  always  turned  them 
down  for  a  reason  that  you're  no  stranger  to.  Not  that 
I  wouldn't  like  to  have  the  job,  it's  the  sort  of  thing  I 
know  I  could  do,  and,  what's  more,  it's  as  important  as 
anything  in  winning  the  war.  You  know  the  way  I 
feel  about  the  whole  business,  particularly  about 
slackers.  I  never  would  care  to  go  in,  at  my  age,  for 
real  soldiering.  Of  course,  I  could  go  into  a  training 
camp  and  come  out  with  a  commission.  But  that's  no 
way  for  me  to  help.  I've  got  too  good  a  head  to  waste 
it  in  taking  orders  from  men  who  don't  know  anything. 

"Anybody  can  be  a  lieutenant  or  a  captain  or  a 
major,  as  I  see  it.  But  there  aren't  many  who  can 
manage  a  big  organization  and  a  half  trained  one  at 
that  in  one  of  the  biggest  enterprises  that  has  ever 
been  attempted." 


294  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

As  he  continued  to  speak,  Ruth  gradually  overcame 
her  perturbation,  due  to  her  absorption  in  what  he 
had  to  say.  It  was  always  like  this  when  he  spoke  to 
her.  She  was  simply  carried  away  by  him.  And  now, 
although  she  had  exacted  his  promise  not  to  go  away, 
she  saw  strong  reasons  for  his  going;  she  visualized  him 
in  the  management  of  the  Red  Cross  overseas,  bringing 
order  out  of  chaos,  producing  efficiency  with  incom 
petent  helpers.  As  it  grew  upon  her,  she  saw  what  was 
coming,  the  call  for  the  decision  she  did  not  wish  to 
make,  and  again  she  was  agitated,  but  in  a  different 
way. 

"This  morning,"  Pemberton  continued,  "they  were 
here  again  and  almost  begged  me  to  accept.  They  put 
before  me  every  possible  inducement  they  could  think 
of.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I  avoided  giving 
them  a  final  answer,  all  I  could  succeed  in  doing  with 
them  was  to  put  them  off  until  this  afternoon." 

He  stopped  short  this  time,  hoping  that  she  would  say 
something  that  would  help  him  to  go  on.  In  view  of  his 
reiterated  promise  to  her,  he  felt  uncomfortable  in 
the  prospect  of  breaking  it.  But  break  it  he  felt  he  must 
and,  as  Ruth  showed  no  disposition  to  talk,  he  went  on: 

"Ruth,  I  must  decide  now.  We  must  decide  now.  I 
know  I  promised  you  to  wait  a  year  for  your  answer, 
and,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  I  would  do  it. 
But  this  is  different.  Outside  of  you  this  is  the  most 
important  thing  that's  ever  come  to  me.  I  don't  mean 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  295 

in  a  business  way  or  anything  like  that.  You  know  what 
I  mean,  don't  you?" 

Ruth  nodded  her  understanding.  Slight  as  it  was,  it 
was  the  first  encouragement  she  had  given  him,  and  he 
went  on  somewhat  more  easily. 

"I  want  you  to  free  me  from  my  promise,  and  let  me 
ask  for  my  answer  now.  You  must  know  it  to-day  as 
well  as  you  ever  can.  Tell  me,  Ruth?"  He  got  up  from 
his  chair  and  walked  over  to  her,  as  though  his  proximity 
would  help  bring  the  answer  he  craved. 

She  looked  up  at  him,  an  appealing  expression  in  her 
face. 

"Please  sit  down,"  she  said.  "Let  me  think." 

He  obeyed  her  and  again  sat  at  his  desk,  while  she 
sat  there  silent,  looking  down.  For  several  seconds 
they  remained  thus  without  motion,  each  busy  with 
thought.  But  the  silence  weighed  upon  him,  doubt  was 
intolerable  and  he  wished  to  press  the  decision,  be  it 
what  it  might. 

"Ruth,"  he  began. 

"Please  don't  talk,  Fred,"  she  answered  without 
looking  up.  "You  must  let  me  think." 

And  again  there  was  silence. 

Never  had  Ruth  known  such  trouble.  Within  her 
was  a  struggle  of  powerful  emotions.  On  the  one  hand, 
her  undoubted  love  for  this  man,  which  had  grown 
within  her  almost  insidiously,  despite  the  quiescence 
to  which  it  had  been  compelled  by  the  exercise  of  her 


296  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

will,  and,  on  the  other,  there  was  her  fear  of  him,  and 
her  even  greater  fear  of  herself.  She  knew  that,  of  the 
two,  he  must  always  be  the  master,  that  her  very  passion 
for  him  would  abet  the  dominance  which  his  strong 
personality  gave  him.  And  Ruth  had  always  placed 
great  emphasis  upon  her  independence.  She  had  always 
wanted  to  be  and,  in  fact,  had  always  been,  self- 
sufficient.  With  him,  however,  there  could  be  no  inde 
pendence;  she  would  be  his,  his  thing  to  do  with  as  he 
pleased,  and  she  knew,  the  decision  once  made,  the  ice 
once  broken,  that  her  love  would  forge  even  stronger 
fetters  to  bind  her  more  securely. 

And  then  there  was  Mrs.  Bernstein.  She  saw  now 
clearly  that  it  must  be  one  or  the  other.  She  knew  the 
utter  incompatibility  between  Pemberton  and  her 
mother.  It  would  never  be  possible  for  them  to  meet 
continuously  in  peace  in  the  narrow  confines  of  one 
household.  All  along  she  had  deceived  herself  in  this 
regard;  as  long  as  she  might  postpone  the  final  decision, 
she  had  deluded  herself  in  the  belief  that  time  would 
bring  them  to  a  basis  of  understanding  if  not  affection. 

For  more  than  a  minute  she  sat  in  silence,  vainly 
trying  to  weigh  these  opposing  emotions.  But  there  was 
no  common  basis  for  their  appraisal;  they  persisted, 
each  in  its  own  way,  irreconcilable,  neither  capable  of 
entering  into  the  domain  of  the  other.  And  at  last,  only 
doubt  was  established,  the  sort  of  doubt  which  com 
pelled  a  negative  answer,  a  doubt  which  produced  the 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  297 

certainty  of  the  misery  of  two  rather  than  the  misery  of 
one.  And  in  this  doubt,  in  the  impossibility  of  realizing 
the  mandate  of  her  body,  which  claimed  this  man, 
without  the  sacrifice  of  her  mother's  love,  as  it  appeared 
to  her,  the  silence  became  intolerable  to  her  and  she 
broke  it. 

"Fred,"  she  said  slowly,  looking  up  at  him.  "I  release 
you  from  your  promise,  but — "  she  could  not  go  on. 

The  sound  of  her  voice  with  an  accent  which  pro 
claimed  not  only  her  love  for  him,  but  also  the  intense 
suffering  she  underwent,  aroused  in  him  a  passion  which 
threatened  to  break  every  bond.  He  looked  at  her  and 
saw  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  an  almost  uncontrollable 
impulse  seized  him,  urging  him  to  go  to  her  and  take 
her  in  his  arms,  but  he  repressed  it  and  awaited  her 
further  word. 

"I  cannot  marry  you,"  she  said  at  length.  "I  see  now 
that  it  is  impossible,  we  would  not  be  happy.  We — " 

"Ruth,"  he  cried,  "what  do  you  mean?  I  would 
make  you  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world.  There  is 
nothing  I  wouldn't  do  for  you.  Your  slightest  wish  would 
be  my  law.  And,  as  for  me,  with  you  as  my  wife  there 
could  be  no  unhappiness,  it  simply  couldn't  exist. 
Listen  to  me.  You  are  the  only  woman  in  the  world 
who  ever  meant  anything  at  all  to  me.  I  thought  at 
one  time  that  I  hated  women,  they  seemed  to  be  out 
of  place  in  the  world,  I  had  no  sympathy  with  their 
views,  their  interests,  their  ways.  But  you,  Ruth,  are 


298  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

everything  to  me.  If  you'll  but  say  the  word,  I'll  turn 
down  this  proposition  so  flat  that  they  won't  have  a 
single  come-back.  I'll  do  whatever  you  say.  I'll  wait 
for  you,  I'll  do  anything."  He  rose  from  his  chair  and 
would  have  come  over  to  her,  but  she  motioned  him  to 
stay  away  and  he  again  sat  down. 

"No,  Fred,"  she  said  slowly,  the  tears  still  in  her 
eyes,  "I  cannot  say  the  word.  I  was  wrong,  I  should 
never  have  allowed  you  to  hope.  Take  this  position 
and  forget  that  you  ever  knew  me.  It  will  be  better 
for  you  to  go  away  and  to  have  this  great,  interesting 
work  to  do,  it  will  make  it  easier  for  you  to  forget." 

"Ruth,"  he  cried,  "you  don't  mean  it.  You  can't 
mean  it.  You  know  you  love  me;  you  must  know  that 
I  can  make  you  happy.  You  must  say  'yes'."  And  he 
held  out  his  arms  to  her. 

But  she  would  not  look  at  him  and  again  repeated 
her  refusal. 

"No,"  she  said.  "You  would  not  make  me  happy.  The 
very  truth  of  my  love  for  you  would  make  me  unhappy. 
I  must  be  free,  I  must  go  on  with  my  life  as  it  is,  I 
cannot  help  it." 

"You  are  talking  nonsense,"  he  said,  and  anger  was 
evident  in  his  voice. 

"No,  Fred,"  she  replied.  "It  isn't  nonsense.  I've 
thought  it  all  out  and  I  know  what  I  must  do.  I  cannot 
marry  you." 

He  listened  to  her  in  amazement.  Was  it  possible  that 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  299 

he  was  to  be  defeated  in  this,  the  greatest  ambition  of 
his  life?  He,  defeated;  he,  before  whom  everyone, 
everything  had  always  yielded.  He  could  not  believe  it, 
and  yet  she  sat  before  him  unshaken  in  her  resolution, 
she,  a  mere  girl  in  his  eyes,  withstanding  all  of  his 
efforts  to  persuade  her.  His  anger  gained  upon  him,  and 
he  struggled  to  control  it  as  he  asked  in  a  voice  almost 
tremulous: 

"Ruth,  you  don't  mean  that  this  is  your  final  de 
cision?" 

"Yes,  Fred,"  she  answered,  her  head  still  bowed, 
"it  is." 

"Very  well  then,"  he  said  in  a  voice  which  he 
attempted  to  make  cold,  but  which  showed  plainly  the 
inward  heat  which  consumed  him,  "I  see  I  have  been 
mistaken  in  you  after  all.  I  thought  you  were  a  real 
woman,  one  with  real  feeling  and  not  a  machine.  You're 
a  good  clerk,  the  best  clerk  I've  ever  met,  I'll  say  that, 
and  I  suppose  you're  a  good  housekeeper  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  You're  smart  enough  to  do  anything  you 
put  your  hand  to,  but  you're  only  a  machine  after  all. 
You're  one  of  these  new  women,  the  sexless  kind,  who 
think  that  they're  the  real  saviours  of  the  world.  They 
look  down  on  marriage  as  something  contemptible. 
That's  the  kind  of  a  woman  you  are.  You  have  a  great 
idea  of  your  importance,  but  actually,  a  hundred  of 
you  aren't  worth  one  simple  girl  who  doesn't  know 
anything  except  that  when  she  loves  a  man  nothing 


300  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

else  counts,  and  she  comes  to  him  knowing  that  she'll 
find  her  happiness  in  him  and  that  her  real  business  in 
life  is  to  be  a  wife  and  a  mother. 

"But  you,"  he  continued,  and  his  anger  lent  a  wither 
ing  contempt  to  his  tone,  "you  are  superior  to  this  kind 
of  woman.  You  have  brains  and  you  pervert  them.  You 
think  that  business  is  your  vocation.  You  make  yourself 
believe  that  you're  indispensable  in  the  business  world. 
You've  educated  yourself  to  the  belief  that  you  should 
look  down  upon  your  natural  impulses  and  you've 
succeeded  to  the  point  where  there's  nothing  left  but 
the  mere  shell  of  a  woman,  the  outside,  with  nothing 
behind  it  but  a  sexless  creature  who  doesn't  know  what 
love  really  is;  who  has  no  conception  of  the  beauty  of 
motherhood — a  barren,  empty  husk." 

He  rose  from  his  desk  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
office  for  a  moment,  and  then  suddenly  sat  down  again. 

Ruth  had  heard  him  begin  with  surprise  and  listened 
to  him  as  he  continued  in  ever  growing  amazement. 
Finally,  anger  and  resentment  gained  her  as  well,  and, 
although  she  made  a  valiant  effort  to  restrain  them, 
her  voice  as  she  answered  him  was  pitched  high,  a 
thing  utterly  unusual  with  her. 

"I  shan't  attempt  to  answer  you,"  she  began,  speak 
ing  very  rapidly.  "There  is  no  use  defending  myself. 
Perhaps  it's  even  better  that  you  should  think  of  me 
as  you  say.  It's  funny  though  that  you,  of  all  men, 
should  call  me  a  machine,  you,  who  have  always  gone 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  301 

on  your  way  relentlessly,  crushing  everybody  and 
everything  which  opposed  you.  You're  the  machine,  not 
the  sexless  thing  you  called  me,  but  a  machine  for  all 
that.  All  of  the  finer  human  qualities  are  strangers  to 
you.  You're  honest  and  truthful,  and,  according  to  your 
way  of  looking  at  things,  just.  But  generosity,  and 
gentleness,  and  charity  are  only  names  to  you — the 
names  of  amiable  weaknesses  of  others.  You  say  you 
never  were  interested  in  any  woman  until  you  met  me. 
Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  why  this  was  so?  Well, 
I'll  tell  you.  It's  because  you  were  afraid  of  them;  you 
felt  you  couldn't  trust  them.  You  put  everything  on 
the  basis  of  self-interest,  and  you  couldn't  see  where 
that  came  into  relations  with  the  other  sex.  Everything 
with  you  is  judged  by  the  same  standard;  what  are 
you  going  to  get  out  of  it,  or  what  is  the  other  fellow 
going  to  get.  If  you  had  any  sense  of  humor,  and  God 
knows  you  haven't,  you'd  see  that  all  of  your  calcula 
tion  isn't  worth  the  trouble  it  takes;  you'd  see  that  the 
people  you  come  into  contact  with  simply  have  to  do 
what  you  want  because  you're  self-willed  and  strong; 
stronger,  much  stronger  than  they  are."  She  paused 
for  breath,  her  bosom  heaving,  while  he  sat  there, 
silent,  looking  at  her  intently  with  wonder  in  his  eyes. 
She  looked  at  him  in  surprise;  never  before  had  she 
seen  him  so  cast-down  and,  even  in  the  excitement  of 
her  angry  resentment,  she  began  to  feel  pity  for  him, 
even  while  she  went  on  with  her  denunciation.  Although 


302  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

moved  by  this  pity  to  mitigate  the  severity  of  her 
arraignment,  she  felt  impelled  to  continue,  now  that 
she  had  begun,  and  to  continue  to  the  bitter  end. 

"And  then  I  came  into  your  life  and  for  once  you 
found  a  woman  whom  you  could  trust,  a  woman  whom 
you  wanted  for  yourself.  What  was  it?  Do  you  know 
what  it  was  that  made  you  want  her,  that  made  you 
trust  her?  I  don't  doubt  that  you  figured  it  all  out  to 
your  own  satisfaction.  But  can  you  tell  me  what  your 
calculation  is  worth?  When  you  were  all  through  with 
it,  did  you  know  any  more  than  when  you  began?  Of 
course  not.  But  you  wouldn't  admit  it.  You  are  too 
proud,  too  vain  to  admit  that  there's  anything  bigger 
and  stronger  than  you. 

"And  did  you  think  of  me?  Did  you  consider  my  part 
of  the  bargain?  Never.  You  took  that  for  granted.  You 
wanted  me,  and  that  was  enough.  My  happiness  was  to 
be  a  matter  of  course  because  you  felt  that  marrying 
me  was  necessary  to  your  happiness.  Just  a  moment  ago 
you  said  that  you  would  do  anything  for  me,  and  I 
believe  you  would,  now,  when  you  want  me  and 
haven't  got  me.  But  if  I  were  married  to  you,  you'd  do 
anything  for  me  that  I  wanted,  provided  it  was  some 
thing  you  were  satisfied  to  have  me  want.  You  can't 
help  it,  that's  what  you  are,  it's  the  way  you  were  made. 
Why,  you  think  if  you  bad  me,  you'd  be  happy.  That's 
foolish.  Happiness  doesn't  come  that  way.  You'll 
never  be  happy,  because  it  isn't  in  you." 


THE    HAPPY  WOMAN  303 

Again  she  paused  for  breath,  but  her  mounting 
excitement  would  not  permit  her  to  stop  for  more  than 
a  moment. 

"Did  you  ever  stop  to  consider  me?  Did  you  ever 
think  of  me  as  a  person  apart  from  you?  Did  you  ever 
consider  that  I  had  an  individuality  apart  from  your 
vision  of  me  as  your  wife?  Did  you  ever  think  what  my 
love  for  you  would  bring  into  my  life?  Did  it  occur  to 
you  that  that  love  would  make  me  unhappy  instead  of 
happy?  No,  for  you  don't  think  that  way.  That  night, 
on  the  way  home  from  the  theatre,  when  you  kissed  me, 
when  you  forced  me  to  show  you  what  I  was  bent  on 
concealing,  did  you  think  of  my  part,  of  the  reasons 
which  made  me  crush  down  my  love  for  you  so  that  I 
might  not  forget  what  I  owed  to  my  sense  of  duty?  No, 
you  were  thinking  only  of  yourself,  you  wanted  me  and 
I  was  unwatchful,  so  you  took  me  unawares.  You  did 
not  act  on  reason  then,  you  did  not  calculate,  you  just 
took  me  and — "  She  could  not  go  on,  her  excitement 
had  reached  the  point  of  hysteria  and  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands,  weeping  convulsively,  all  control  gone. 

In  a  moment  he  was  by  her  side,  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder. 

"Come,  Ruth,"  he  said  gently,  and  would  have 
added  more  but  knew  not  what  to  say.  His  touch, 
however,  was  potent,  not  to  make  her  calm,  but  to  break 
down  finally  the  barrier  of  her  reserve  which  had  so 
long  withstood  him.  Punctuated  by  sobs,  she  went  on: 


304  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

"Oh!  I  love  you.  I  do  love  you  and  I  can't  give  you 
up.  I  don't  care  what  happens;  I  don't  care  what  you 
do  to  me,  I  love  you  and  I  won't  give  you  up." 

In  her  excitement  she  seized  his  hand  and  covered 
it  with  kisses.  Gently,  he  disengaged  it,  and,  almost 
lifting  her  to  her  feet,  took  both  of  her  hands Jn  his. 

"Look  at  me,  Ruth,"  he  said. 

"Oh!  What  must  you  think  of  me!"  she  cried,  her 
head  still  bowed,  her  body  still  shaken  by  sobs. 

"You  know  what  I  think  of  you,"  he  said  gravely, 
and  then  went  on,  "Ruth,  did  you  mean  what  you  said 
just  now?" 

But  she  did  not  answer. 

"Ruth,"  he  said  again,  "did  you  mean  what  you 
have  just  said?  I  know  you  were  terribly  excited  and 
perhaps  you  did  not  know  just  what  you  were  saying. 
Tell  me,  it  means  everything  to  me."  His  tone  was  one 
of  infinite  pleading. 

No  word  came  from  her.  For  a  brief  moment  she  stood 
there,  her  head  bowed,  her  hands  in  his,  and  then, 
disengaging  them,  she  placed  her  arms  about  his  neck 
and  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

"Oh!  Fred,  I  love  you,"  was  all  she  said. 

For  fully  a  minute  they  stood  thus  and  then  they 
kissed;  a  long,  rapturous  kiss  that  set  the  seal  of  finality 
upon  their  plighted  troth.  And  then,  suddenly,  they 
simultaneously  remembered  that  they  were  in  a  business 
office  and  withdrew  from  each  other's  embrace.  There 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  305 

was  no  need  of  explanation.  Each  forgot  the  bitter 
arraignment  of  the  other  of  but  a  few  minutes  earlier. 

Ruth,  in  her  new  found  certainty,  was  almost  per 
fectly  happy.  Only  the  least  bit  of  anxiety  at  the 
prospect  of  breaking  the  news  to  her  mother  tempered 
what  would  have  been  perfect  bliss. 

They  resumed  their  chairs  and  discussed  their  plans 
for  the  future  at  great  length.  Suddenly,  she  remem 
bered  that  she  had  told  Hardwick  to  wait  for  her. 

"What  time  is  it?"  she  asked. 

He  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Ten  minutes  to  four." 

"Oh!  Lord,"  she  cried.  "Have  I  been  here  two  hours? 
I  told  Mr.  Hardwick  I  would  be  back  in  a  few  minutes. 
I  must  run." 

"Wait  a  minute,"  he  said.  "Am  I  to  come  up  to 
night?" 

"Surely!"  she  cried,  and  fled. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

IT  came  into  Hardwick's  mind,  Immediately  after 
Ruth  had  left  him,  to  put  on  his  hat  and  coat  and 
go  away,  out  of  the  office,  out  of  the  city,  any 
where  that  might  save  him  from  ever  again  seeing 
anyone  whom  he  had  ever  known.  It  was  but  a  momen 
tary  impulse,  dismissed  almost  as  soon  as  it  appeared, 
but  it  was  a  most  natural  one. 

He  fancied  that  he  was  forever  disgraced.  The  one 
thing  which  he  felt  he  had  always  possessed  was  gone, 
his  good  name,  the  respect  to  which  he  had  always  felt 
entitled.  Ruth's  accusation  appeared  to  him  to  be  that 
of  the  whole  world,  it  seemed  as  though  the  finger  of 
public  scorn  was  pointed  at  him,  and  that  he  cowered 
under  it,  guilty,  convicted  of  petty  theft. 

As  he  anxiously  awaited  her  return,  he  began  to 
phrase  his  explanation  in  his  mind.  And  as  he  went  on 
with  it,  he  readily  found  excuses,  nay,  reasons  to 
justify  his  action.  After  all,  what  had  he  done?  He  had 
admitted  McCabe  to  competition  for  the  catalogue, 
through  which  the  company  would  save  one  thousand 
dollars.  He  told  himself  that  he  had  not  been  led  to  do 
it  by  reason  of  McCabe's  giving  him  the  opportunity  to 
earn  a  little  money  on  the  side.  That  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it;  the  two  things  had  merely  coincided  in  point 
of  time.  There  was  no  intrinsic  wrong  in  his  using  his 

306 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  307 

own  leisure  for  the  purpose  of  supplementing  his 
income,  certainly  not  when  the  work  he  did  in  no  way 
interfered  with  the  earnings  or  prestige  of  his  employer. 
His  reason  for  not  re-opening  the  competition  was  per 
fectly  good;  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  they  were  already 
late  in  awarding  the  contract  for  printing. 

Gradually,  with  thoughts  like  these,  his  aplomb 
returned  and  he  wished  for  Ruth's  coming  so  that  he 
might  justify  himself  in  her  eyes.  He  knew  instinctively 
that,  were  she  satisfied,  the  matter  would  be  dropped. 
Had  she  not  told  him  that  he  was  the  only  one  to  whom 
she  felt  she  could  speak  about  the  matter?  And  this 
could  only  mean  that  she  had  kept  her  own  counsel, 
and,  once  she  was  convinced  of  his  perfect  honesty  in 
the  transaction,  would  continue  to  do  so. 

But  the  minutes  went  by  and  she  did  not  return.  He 
became  restless  and,  in  the  effort  to  remain  unper 
turbed,  tried  to  busy  himself  with  some  unfinished  work 
on  his  desk.  The  effort  was  a  vain  one,  however,  and 
presently  he  laid  the  papers  he  was  reading  to  one  side. 
He  could  think  of  but  one  thing  and  that  was  how  he 
should  justify  himself  in  Ruth's  eyes. 

And  as  the  subject  turned  and  turned  again  hi  his 
mind,  the  weaknesses  of  his  defense  became  more  and 
more  apparent.  In  imagination  he  could  see  the  cool 
scrutiny  in  her  eyes,  as  she  listened  to  him;  he  could 
almost  phrase  her  sharp,  succinct  questions  which  would 
riddle  his  show  of  justification.  He  saw  that  it  was 


308  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

useless,  he  had  deceived  only  himself;  he  could  never 
hope  to  deceive  her.  He  was  a  ruined  man,  there  was 
nothing  left. 

Literally  in  agony,  he  sat  at  his  desk  suffering  the 
deepest  despair  he  had  ever  known.  All  of  his  life  he  had 
vacillated  between  the  extremes  of  hope  and  despond 
ency,  the  former  largely  in  the  majority,  but  now  he 
sounded  a  greater  depth  than  ever.  There  seemed  no  way 
out,  no  possible  means  for  him  to  re-establish  hope,  no 
basis  for  his  future  self-respect. 

And  then,  suddenly,  he  laughed  at  himself.  Why 
should  he  fear  this  girl's  opinion?  Let  her  tell  Pemberton 
if  she  wished,  she  might  tell  the  whole  world.  At  most 
it  was  a  trifling,  venial  offense,  if  it  were  really  an 
offense  at  all.  Practical  men  would  laugh  at  it.  Let  her 
come  back  then  and  he  would  make  his  explanation. 
If  it  satisfied  her,  well  and  good.  If  not,  he  would  defy 
her  and  Pemberton,  too.  This  wasn't  the  only  job  in 
the  world. 

He  got  up  and  walked  about  the  office  pretending  to 
be  looking  for  something  so  that  his  restlessness  might 
not  be  noticed  by  the  clerks  in  the  room.  He  pulled 
out  his  watch  and  saw  that  it  was  after  half-past  two. 

Suddenly  he  remembered  his  promise  to  his  wife  to 
attend  her  talk  at  three  o'clock,  and  told  himself  that 
he  would  await  Ruth's  return  no  longer  than  quarter 
to  three. 

But  when  quarter  to  three  came  without  her  reappear- 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  309 

ance,  he  did  not  go,  and,  what  was  now  plainly  apparent 
to  him,  he  would  not  go.  He  must  see  her,  he  must 
explain  the  whole  matter  to  her  so  that  he  might  be 
sure  that  she  would  tell  no  one,  that  the  secret  would  be 
locked  safely  in  her  bosom. 

And  as  the  minutes  slipped  by,  he  thought  of  his  past 
experience,  his  change  from  one  occupation  to  another, 
always  with  the  hope  of  an  improvement  which  he 
never  was  able  to  realize.  Always  had  he  been  the 
victim  of  circumstances,  never  their  master.  His  whole 
career  had  been  a  series  of  disappointments;  either  the 
man  upon  whom  he  had  counted  failed  him  or  the 
opportunity  he  looked  for  was  lacking. 

Was  it  ill  luck  solely?  Was  it  possible  that  so  long, 
so  constant  a  succession  of  failures  could  be  purely 
fortuitous?  It  did  not  seem  possible,  and  yet,  could 
there  be  any  other  reason?  If  there  was,  it  was  not 
due  to  any  failing  of  his,  of  that  he  was  sure.  It  was 
true  that  there  had  been  occasional  lapses,  none, 
however,  of  a  serious  nature,  in  which  he  may  not 
have  taken  the  best  advantage  of  an  offered  oppor 
tunity,  but  that  was  all. 

But  was  it?  Could  he  be  mistaken  and  ignorant  of 
the  truth?  Ignorant  or  ignoring,  did  it  matter  which? 
Ah!  Yes,  it  did,  and  was  there  really  something  in  him 
which  he  had  persistently  ignored,  which  he  had  rigor 
ously  avoided  recognizing? 

And  the  minutes  still  slipped  by  as  he  sat  at  his  desk, 


310  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

now  calm,  but  with  the  calmness  of  settled  despair. 
One  by  one,  he  reviewed  his  failures,  his  misfortunes, 
he  had  been  wont  to  call  them,  but  now  they  stood  out 
in  a  clearer  light.  They  were  misfortunes,  it  was  true, 
but  they  were  those  which  come  persistently  only  to 
the  weak  in  spirit,  those  who  shrink  from  the  battle  and 
go  into  action  with  defeat  in  their  hearts. 

Bitterly  he  went  over  his  more  recent  experience, 
that  with  his  present  employer,  beginning  with  his 
first  interview  with  Pemberton.  What  was  it  that  made 
him  cringe  before  him?  Was  it  that  Pemberton  had  a 
better  mind;  that  he  was  quicker  to  see  his  interest, 
more  agile?  No,  for  even  in  that  interview  Hardwick 
had  known  just  what  Pemberton  was  doing  and  why 
he  was  doing  it.  Why  then  had  he  allowed  himself  to 
be  put  upon  if  he  was  aware  of  the  tactics  of  the  other? 
How  could  he  have  maintained  his  self-respect,  and  he 
had  retained  it,  if  he  was  willing  to  come  out  of  that 
negotiation  docile,  a  willing  subject  to  the  imposed 
force  of  Pemberton?  He  remembered  that  all  of  his 
readiness,  his  wit  had  been  employed  to  justify  his 
acquiescence  on  the  ground  of  the  superiority  of  his 
opponent  and  his  own  needs. 

Why  had  he  not  opposed  him?  Why  had  he  not 
insisted  on  his  value  and  spurned  the  contemptible 
offer  which  he  had  so  cravenly  accepted?  Why?  Why? 
Was  it  fear?  Fear  of  what?  Certainly  not  personal 
violence.  That  would  be  ridiculous.  In  that  respect,  he 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  311 

knew  instinctively  that  he  was  the  equal  of  any  man. 
But  perhaps  it  was  another  kind  of  fear,  the  fear  of  self- 
consciousness,  the  fear  of  the  unexpressed  opinion  of 
those  with  whom  he  came  into  contact,  which  held  his 
tongue  still  when  they  ruthlessly  disposed  of  his  fortunes, 
rather  than  have  them  think  him  deficient  in  some 
respect,  he  couldn't  think  what.  No,  that  wasn't  it 
either,  although  he  felt  that  he  had  often  been  guilty  of 
omission  to  press  his  recognized  interests  for  this  poor 
reason. 

It  was  not  only  Pemberton.  Albright  and  many  others 
had  so  used  him,  had  set  his  concerns  to  one  side  in 
his  own  presence  in  order  to  push  their  own.  Even 
McCabe,  he  now  saw  clearly,  had  used  him.  All  of  them' 
had  compelled  his  silence,  his  acceptance  of  what  they 
were  willing  to  yield  while  they  took  what  they  wanted 
for  themselves. 

As  he  turned  these  bitter  thoughts  in  his  mind,  he 
again  took  out  his  watch  and  noted  that  it  was  after 
three  o'clock.  Well,  he  would  wait,  he  would  learn 
what  the  immediate  future  held  for  him.  He  no  longer 
wondered  what  detained  Ruth,  he  was  interested  so 
deeply  in  his  introspection. 

What  was  it  then  that  gave  these  men  the  mastery 
over  him?  In  the  case  of  Pendleton,  in  the  advertising 
agency,  he  saw  now  most  distinctly  that,  had  he 
insisted  on  his  rights,  he  would  have  carried  his  point. 
But  he  had  allowed  Pendleton  to  anger  him,  although 


312  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

he  knew  full  well  that  that  was  Pendleton's  object,  and 
in  the  end  had  done  exactly  what  was  wanted  of  him, 
made  the  offer  of  his  resignation. 

Could  it  be  that  he  was  weaker  than  they,  not  weaker 
in  intellect,  but  less  forceful,  weaker  in  will?  Of  course, 
of  any  two  men,  one  must  be  the  stronger;  one  of  the 
two  must  be  able  to  impose  his  will  on  the  other,  by 
some  process  completely  inscrutable,  some  power 
inherent  hi  its  possessor,  which  came  to  him  naturally 
and  was  not  the  result  of  his  own  effort,  like  the  shape 
of  one's  hand. 

But  then  if,  of  any  two  men,  one  must  be  the  stronger, 
would  it  not  be  likely  that  the  weaker,  when  he  was  one 
of  another  couple,  might  be  the  stronger?  And  the 
stronger  in  the  first  couple  might  be  the  weaker  in  a 
third. 

However,  it  seemed  to  Hardwick,  as  he  reviewed  one 
experience  after  another,  that  he  was  always  the 
weaker,  that  it  was  always  his  will  that  yielded  before 
the  superior  power  of  the  other.  Could  it  be  then  that 
he  was  not  fit  to  cope  with  other  men  in  the  struggle 
for  place  and  wealth;  that  he  was  invariably  doomed  to 
defeat,  no  matter  what  amount  of  thought  and  effort 
he  might  put  into  the  fight? 

And  this  weakness  was  not  confined  to  negativing 
his  chance  of  success  when  his  ambition,  his  desires 
were  pitted  against  those  of  other  men.  It  went  further, 
it  made  sustained  effort  in  any  direction  impossible. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  313 

Just  to  go  back  over  his  most  recent  history,  was  it 
not  true  that,  after  his  first  advertising  campaign  for 
the  Prescott  Company,  the  success  of  which  was  golden 
in  promise  for  his  future,  he  relapsed  into  a  state  in 
which  lively  effort  seemed  impossible?  And  after  the 
first  start  of  the  new  catalogue,  had  his  interest  not 
flagged?  He  remembered  now  that  always  he  had  been 
like  this,  and  he  remembered,  too,  that  it  had  been 
his  wont  to  consider  it  leniently  as  appropriate  to  the 
temperamental  character  ascribed  to  creative  artists. 

He  saw  the  truth  clearly  now.  No  longer  could  he 
delude  himself  with  phrases,  the  day  was  past  when  he 
might  accept  self-justification  at  the  price  of  poor 
excuses.  The  humiliating  truth,  bitter  as  it  was,  stood 
before  him  in  sharp  outline,  bare  and  utterly  convincing. 

He  was  a  failure.  He  was  neither  competent  as  a 
business  man  nor  as  an  artist.  All  of  his  life  he  had 
indulged  in  the  delusion  that  he  was  a  man  of  affairs, 
equal  in  ability  to  any  other,  lacking  only  the  oppor 
tunity  to  prove  his  quality.  It  mattered  not  whether 
it  was  his  own  fault  or  was  born  in  him,  the  fact  was 
there,  inexpugnable,  unassailable. 

And  there  was  no  basis  upon  which  to  hope  for  any 
betterment  in  the  future.  He  would  always  be  a  failure; 
he  would  always  sow,  but  never  reap.  If  he  were  to 
contend  to-day,  now,  with  Pemberton,  the  end  would 
surely  be  his  defeat. 

And  utter  despondency  held  him.  He  saw  before  him, 


314  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

for  the  rest  of  his  life,  the  continuous  ordeal  of  Sisyphus. 
Always  must  he  begin  over  again  after  each  new  defeat 
to  face  defeat  again  and  still  defeat. 

What  was  the  use  of  further  effort?  Could  he  even 
make  the  effort,  knowing  that  it  was  foredoomed  to 
failure?  Would  it  not  be  better  to  end  it  all,  to  do  away 
with  himself,  and  thus  remove  forever,  in  this  culminat 
ing  confession  of  supreme  incompetence,  the  pain  of 
ever  recurring  failure? 

No  longer  did  he  note  the  passage  of  time  as  he  sat 
there,  his  head  bowed  over  his  desk  in  an  anguish  of 
spirit  such  as  he  had  never  imagined  could  be  the  por 
tion  of  any  man. 

With  the  final  recognition  of  his  inherent  inca 
pability,  with  the  tragedy  of  his  utter  self-revelation, 
his  every  interest  vanished  and  there  was  nothing  left 
but  an  inflamed  sensibility  to  excruciating  pain.  No 
longer  did  he  think,  no  longer  did  he  probe  his  wound, 
he  simply  suffered. 

And  then  Ruth  returned  and  stood  before  him,  a 
Ruth  joyous,  transfigured,  such  as  he  had  never 
known.  But  he  did  not  perceive  the  change  in  her.  All 
he  saw  was  his  questioner,  and  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  leaped  into  action.  He  saw  she  was  there 
and  he  hastened  to  speak.  He  scarcely  heard  her  say: 

"Oh!  Mr.  Hard  wick,  I'm  so  sorry  I've  kept  you 
waiting.  Mr.  Pemberton  had  a  very  important  matter 
to  discuss  with  me  and  I  lost  all  track  of  time." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  315 

"I've  been  thinking  over  what  we  were  talking  about," 
he  began,  scarcely  conscious  of  her  words.  "I  want  to 
explain  my  side  of  it  and  then,  if  you  can't  see  it  the 
way  I  do,  I  suppose  the  only  thing  to  do  will  be  for  me 
to  offer  my  resignation." 

As  he  spoke,  his  courage  returned  in  part  and  he 
looked  at  her  searchingly  to  gauge  the  effect  of  what  he 
had  said.  What  he  saw  utterly  surprised  him.  Instead 
of  the  reserved  woman  of  affairs  who,  but  two  hours 
before,  had  charged  him  with  a  serious  breach  of  busi 
ness  ethics,  he  saw  before  him  a  smiling  girl,  joyful, 
filled  with  the  zest  of  life  at  its  highest. 

"Oh!  Mr.  Hardwick,"  she  said  gaily,  'let's  not  say 
any  more  about  that  matter.  I've  thought  of  it  since  I 
spoke  to  you,  and  I  believe  we  had  better  forget  it." 

"But  Miss  Bernstein,"  he  answered,  bewildered,  with 
a  relief  that  entered  into  his  every  fibre,  "I  can't  let 
the  matter  rest  that  way.  I  couldn't  see  you  every  day, 
and—" 

"But  you  won't  see  me  every  day,"  she  said  with 
wonderful  cheerfulness,  "I'm  not  going  to  remain  here. 
I'm  giving  up  this  position  in  a  few  days.  I'm  going  to 
retire  to  private  life." 

"What's  that?"  he  said  in  great  surprise.  "Did  you 
say  you  were  leaving?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "I'm  going  in  a  few 
days.  Just  as  soon  as  you  can  find  someone  to  take  up 
my  work." 


316  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

"Well,  this  is  a  great  surprise,"  he  said,  very  much 
interested,  wishing  that  she  would  give  him  some 
opportunity  to  ask  the  reasons  for  her  leaving.  But  she 
did  not,  and,  instead,  gave  him  a  new  shock. 

"Mr.  Pemberton  is  leaving,  too,"  she  said. 

"Pemberton!  Leaving?"  he  gasped. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Pemberton  is  going  to  France  in  a  few  days. 
So  you  needn't  consider  him  either.  Just  forget  it, 
please,  and  above  all,  forget  that  I  ever  bothered  you 
about  it." 

"Very  well,"  he  said.  "I  don't  understand  what  has 
changed  your  mind,  but  if  you  are  perfectly  sure — " 
He  hesitated,  and  Ruth  finished  the  sentence,  although 
he  did  not  understand  her  meaning. 

"I'm  sure,"  she  said,  "sure  at  last,"  and  left  him. 

He  watched  her  go  to  her  desk  and  set  to  work  and 
then,  suddenly,  the  thought  of  his  promise  to  his  wife 
came  to  him.  He  looked  at  his  watch,  it  was  four  o'clock. 

"I'm  going  for  the  day,"  he  said  to  Ruth,  who  looked 
up  at  the  sound  of  his  voice.  Picking  up  his  coat  and 
hat,  he  came  over  to  her  desk,  and  added: 

"You  know  Mrs.  Hardwick  is  giving  the  first  of  a 
series  of  talks  at  Wilberforce  Hall  this  afternoon  and 
I  promised  I'd  look  in." 

"Yes,"  answered  Ruth,  "mother  is  going.  I  hope  it 
will  be  a  great  success." 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  and  left  the  office. 

As  he  hurried  out  of  the  building,  he  was  conscious 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  317 

of  a  buoyancy,  a  youthful  energy  that  seemed  to  him 
to  give  the  lie  utterly  to  his  recent  dismal  thoughts.  As 
he  hurried  down  the  street  he  saw  an  empty  taxicab, 
hailed  it  and  was  driven  rapidly  to  Wilberforce  Hall. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  bitter  cold  of  this  January  day  made  the 
warmth  and  coziness  of  Wilberforce  Hall  all 
the  more  grateful  to  Hardwick,  as  he  entered 
and  looked  in  vain  for  a  seat.  The  term  coziness  may 
seem  out  of  place  in  the  description  of  a  hall  large 
enough  to  seat  nearly  a  thousand  people.  To  Hardwick, 
however,  as  he  looked  over  the  closely  packed  audi 
torium,  and  the  stage  upon  which  his  wife  stood, 
backed  by  a  double  row  of  occupied  chairs,  there  came 
the  sense  of  intimate  comfort  to  which  the  word  applies. 
Almost  the  whole  of  the  audience  was  composed  of 
women,  the  few  men  scattered  among  them  sank  into 
insignificance.  As  Hardwick  took  in  the  picture  that 
met  his  eyes,  his  impression  was  that  of  a  mass  of 
extremely  well  dressed  women,  and  he  was  conscious 
of  a  mixture  of  perfumes,  indefinite  because  of  the 
medley  of  many  kinds,  and  the  decided  odor  of  furs. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  speaking  as  he  entered  and  the 
audience  was  giving  the  closest  attention  to  her  words. 
So  silent  were  they,  so  quiet,  that  it  seemed  to  Hard 
wick  that  she  was  not  putting  into  her  voice  more 
than  its  ordinary  strength.  She  was  completely  com 
posed,  utterly  mistress  of  herself  and  obviously  happy. 
He  noted  that  the  unctuous  quality  of  tone  usual  with 
her  was  greatly  emphasized.  There  spoke  in  it  a  great 

318 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  319 

condescension  to  her  listeners,  as  though  this  was  the 
utterance  of  an  oracle;  and  the  absorption  of  the  audi 
ence,  as  it  hung  upon  her  every  word,  bespoke  their 
acceptance  of  her  pronouncements  at  her  own  valuation. 

Hardwick,  hi  his  new  found  freedom  from  worry,  in 
the  recoil  from  the  abyss  of  gloom  into  which  he  had 
lately  been  plunged,  had  his  mind  free  to  consider  the 
prospect  before  him.  And  he  wondered  at  it  and, 
principally,  wondered  at  her.  After  eighteen  years  of 
marriage,  he  learned  that  he  did  not  yet  know  his 
wife.  This  woman,  who  stood  there  before  him,  carrying 
her  audience  with  her,  was  a  new  personage  to  him. 
He  had  never  suspected  this  power  in  her,  and,  as  he 
thought  of  it,  it  came  to  him  that  she  also  had  been 
unconscious  of  it.  He  was  familiar  with  her  whole 
history,  the  greater  part  because  he  had,  in  a  sense, 
shared  it,  and  the  rest  because  in  her  constant  volubility 
every  item  of  it  had  been  told  him  in  frequent  repeti 
tion. 

She  had  always  been  fond  of  books,  and  had  always 
been  a  great  though  not  a  judicious  reader.  That  aspect 
of  it  had  meant  little  or  nothing  to  him  because  he  was 
scarcely  a  reader  at  all,  and  was  certainly  not  attracted 
by  the  type  of  literature  which  interested  his  wife. 
Her  education,  that  part  of  it  which  she  had  received 
in  schools,  was  limited,  and  the  rest  had  come  mainly 
from  books.  She  did  not  learn  much  in  her  conversations 
with  others  outside  of  what  came  to  her  in  the  crystal- 


320  THE    HAPPY  WOMAN 

lization  of  her  own  impressions  in  speech.  But  Hardwick 
did  not  know  this,  nor  had  he  ever  speculated  upon  the 
subject  in  general.  He  did  not  know  that  she  was  ill- 
informed  upon  most  subjects,  which  were  those  upon 
which  she  had  any  information  whatever,  and,  in  his 
mind,  she  was  an  exceptionally  well  educated  woman. 

But  even  then,  although  he  had  had  a  vast  experience 
of  her  readiness  in  expression,  he  had  never  fancied  in 
her  this  power  of  leadership,  this  mastery.  And  he  was 
vaguely  jealous  of  her  success;  he  felt  that  it  diminished 
his  standing  in  the  world.  This  was  not  a  clear  thought, 
it  was  but  the  reflection  of  a  slight  irritation  which  the 
spectacle  of  her  success  imposed  on  him. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  was  closing  some  remarks  on  the 
Russian  situation  as  he  entered,  and,  when  she  had 
paused,  after  asking  the  audience  if  there  were  any 
more  questions  on  the  subject  under  discussion,  there 
was  a  short  silence,  during  which  Mrs.  Hardwick  stood 
in  an  expectant  attitude,  while  the  tension  of  the 
audience  relaxed  and  there  was  the  faint  buzz  of 
whispered  remarks  from  many  places  hi  the  hall. 

Directly  in  front  of  him  he  heard  a  young  woman 
say  to  her  neighbor: 

"Isn't  she  wonderful?  She  seems  to  know  everything, 
doesn't  she?" 

"She  talks  very  well,"  was  the  answer,  "but  I  don't 
think  my  husband  would  agree  with  her  in  some  of  her 
opinions." 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  321 

Hardwick  was  annoyed  at  the  presumption  of  the 
answer.  What  right  had  this  woman  to  question? 

"What  subject?"  asked  the  first  speaker. 

"Oh!  about  the  labor  situation.  You  know  that  Mr. 
Purvis  has  very  strong  opinions  on  that  subject.  Why 
only  the  other  evening — " 

Just  then  there  was  a  sudden  silence  and  everyone's 
attention  was  directed  to  a  young  woman  hi  the  centre 
of  the  hall,  who  had  risen  from  her  seat  and  was  about 
to  put  a  question  to  Mrs.  Hardwick.  She  was  very  fair, 
and  very  blonde,  characteristics  which  were  emphasized 
by  the  heavy  rimmed  tortoise  shell  glasses  which  she 
wore.  She  was  evidently  much  embarrassed  by  the 
stillness  which  her  rising  had  occasioned,  and  seemed 
to  have  difficulty  in  controlling  her  voice. 

"Mrs.  Hardwick,"  she  said,  "I  saw  in  the  paper  this 
morning  that  the  Bolsheviki  have  turned  over  to  the 
Germans  guns  which  the  Allies  sent  to  Russia.  You 
didn't  mention  it  in  your  talk  and  I  wondered  if  they 
had  any  right  to  do  such  a  thing."  She  sat  down 
abruptly.  It  had  evidently  been  a  great  effort. 

Mrs.  Hardwick  answered  her  with  perfect  seriousness. 

"I  am  afraid  that  the  state  of  war  is  one  in  which  all 
ethical  considerations  have  small  respect,  and  in  which 
the  ordinary  rules  of  conduct  are  suspended.  We  have 
heard  the  saying  that  'All  is  fair  in  love  and  war,'  and 
that  seems  to  be  the  basis  upon  which  all  belligerent 
nations  determine  their  course  of  action.  There  are, 


322  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

however,  well-established  principles  which  are  known 
as  the  rules  of  war,  but  which,  I  am  afraid,  in  the 
present  conflict,  are  more  honored  in  the  breach  than 
in  the  observance.  In  answer  to  your  question,  there 
fore,  I  should  say  that  it  is  quite  within  the  right  of 
the  Germans  to  make  use  of  any  of  the  machinery  of 
war  which  may  fall  into  their  hands,  as  we  should  con 
sider  it  within  ours  to  do  a  similar  thing.  Are  there 
any  more  questions?"  she  concluded,  beaming  upon  her 
audience  with  her  most  benevolent  expression. 

Apparently  there  were  none,  and  again  there  was  a 
recurrence  of  the  buzz  of  whispered  conversation  all 
over  the  hall.  Mrs.  Hardwick  waited  for  perhaps  half 
a  minute  and  then  spoke. 

"Ladies  and  Gentlemen,"  she  said  loudly,  and  the 
buzz  ceased  instantly,  "I  must  thank  you  for  your 
attention  this  afternoon.  It  has  been  a  proud  and  happy 
day  for  me  and  I  should  like  to  take  a  few  minutes  of 
your  time  to  tell  you  about  it.  I  am  sure  that  you 
will  bear  with  me  for  a  brief  moment  because  you  have 
shown  by  your  enthusiastic  approbation  of  the  idea 
contained  in  the  proposition  to  give  this  series  of  talks 
on  current  topics,  that  you  were  moved  by  a  lively 
Interest  in  the  great  affairs  of  the  day  and  that,  if  you 
did  not  know  that  I  possessed  the  qualities  necessary  to 
entitle  me  to  act  as  an  authoritative  interpreter  of  con 
temporary  history,  you  were  willing  to  give  me  the 
opportunity  to  demonstrate  whether  or  not  I  was  so 
gifted. 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  323 

"When  I  proposed  this  series  to  my  dear  friend,  Mrs. 
L.  Percival  Sedley,"  Mrs.  Hardwick  here  turned  and 
looked  at  the  lady  she  had  just  named,  one  of  those 
seated  on  the  stage,  "she  met  my  modest  and  almost 
timorous  announcement  with  the  warm-hearted  enthusi 
asm  and  encouragement  which  have  made  successful 
so  many  ventures  undertaken  in  the  public  interest. 
She  took  up  the  proposition  with  her  usual  energy  and 
promptly  enlisted  in  its  behalf  the  co-operation  of  the 
ladies  whose  names  appear  in  the  list  of  patronesses. 
With  characteristic  modesty,  Mrs.  Sedley  made  no 
change  in  my  plans,  but  lent  her  great  name  and 
influence  to  their  furtherance,  hi  the  exact  form  in 
which  I  had  devised  them. 

"Until  to-day  I  have,  no  doubt,  been  a  stranger  to 
many  of  you.  I  have  lived  obscurely  in  the  bosom  of 
my  family,  devoting  myself  to  the  discharge  of  those 
housewifely  duties  which  are  the  proud  portion  of 
all  women  true  to  the  ideals  of  their  sex.  Never,  however, 
have  I  permitted  my  interest  in  what  are  justly  con 
sidered  as  the  higher  activities  of  life,  those  of  the 
mind  and  the  development  of  learning,  the  arts  and 
literature,  to  languish. 

"It  is  the  last  of  these  that  has  always  claimed 
attention  in  my  spare  hours.  I  have  devoted  myself  to 
acquiring  a  full  mind  by  mastering  the  contents  of 
those  marvelous  works  which  are  the  true  monuments 
of  the  greatness  of  our  race.  The  history  of  nations 


324  THE    HAPPY   WOMAN 

as  interpreted  by  the  greatest  minds  of  all  ages,  has 
been  the  pabulum  upon  which  my  mind  has  constantly 
been  fed.  It  has  always  appeared  to  me  that  the  surest 
way  in  which  to  appraise  the  events  in  which  we  are 
actually  concerned,  the  history,  so  to  speak,  which  we 
make  from  day  to  day,  was  by  an  understanding  of  what 
has  happened  in  the  past.  Manners  vary  and  customs 
change;  invention  alters  the  usages  of  mankind,  but 
man  himself  is  unchanged,  his  instincts,  his  emotions 
remain  the  same. 

"And  so,  in  the  history  of  all  nations  and  all  ages, 
I  have  tried  to  read  the  meaning  of  the  movements,  of 
the  struggle  which  has  convulsed  the  world  today. 
That  I  have  in  part  succeeded  is  attested  by  your  atten 
tion,  by  your  unfeigned  interest  in  my  words.  Every 
drop  of  the  midnight  oil  which  I  have  spent  in  acquiring 
the  comparatively  poor  store  of  knowledge  which  has 
made  possible  the  exposition  of  the  views  upon  topics 
of  current  interest  which  I  have  offered  to  you  to-day 
in  all  modesty,  has  been  returned  to  me  a  thousand 
fold  in  your  undisguised  cordial  approbation. 

"And  therefore,  if  before  to-day  I  have  .been  a  stranger 
to  many  of  you,  I  feel  I  am  so  no  longer.  And  my  feeling 
towards  you  is  that  I  am  in  the  presence  of  true  friends. 
I  feel  the  greeting  which  your  hearts  extend  to  me  is 
all  the  more  cordial  because  it  is  inarticulate.  But  my 
position  here,  as  speaker,  gives  me  no  such  privilege. 
I  am  compelled  to  put  into  words,  into  halting  phrase, 


THE    HAPPY   WOMAN  325 

that  which  really  is  beyond  the  power  of  verbal  expres 
sion.  But  I  am  emboldened  by  the  warm  sympathy 
which  I  feel  you  hold  towards  me  to  believe  that  you 
will  take  my  words  as  symbols  merely  of  an  emotion 
much  more  powerful  than  they  can  carry.  I  can  only 
thank  you.  You  have  made  me  a  happy  woman." 


THE   END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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